We are but a drop of water in a stream,
Under the illusion that we are a self.
Yet all the while, the stream flows through us;
We are but an artifice of divine intelligence.
Unaware, we assert our separateness,
Like a dream where we find ourselves as monarchs,
Ruling over empires, free and independent.
Awareness tells us that no drop is separate
From the water in the stream.
Enlightenment reveals we are the stream,
Flowing down to the sea, our source,
Only to rise as vapour, passing through forms,
To become a stream anew.
Yet like kings, we sit on thrones, declaring:
'We are a self, independent, '
And 'there is no lord over us.'
But the stream flows on, unheeding.
MyKoul
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem