My Human Disguise.
Sengai! Is the lantern lit?
Granted, your point stabs us with wit.
An old parable, forgotten
And obvious, like a dark cave,
Empty and dry, but not rotten,
Composed by a man deadly brave.
The blind man taps his walking stick
And that may be his burning wick.
To see is to know it is not
To see but to know but a jot
To see in our thought’s darkest blot
Seeing that is and that is not.
Tap, tap, tap, my old frowning friend.
Only you see beyond the bend.
