The Emperor sits on his throne,
lofty above the ground,
untouched.
The rest live low in the earth,
related, woven, held,
the minerals of life seeping in.
His only power is fear,
his master selfishness.
He only rules what he sees—
a tiny little world, really.
Yours opens, extends,
includes, exceeds.
When the whole world
is such a paradise
you don’t need a throne, do you?
__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
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