The impact of your golden boots on the cobble stone is heavy,
getting more decisive with every step of the path, forward.
Your deep-red silk cloak sways in the wind
and covers your shoulders and back;
you are on the way, and it is good.

Imagine a king who sets one foot in front of the other, not yet
a hundred percent convinced
that he is going to like his job, this work.
A king who, nevertheless, takes it, because it is his place
and because it is time.
Imagine a king walking with heavy step so as to be heard;
a king whose first command is one pronounced with utter clarity - because it is necessary.
Imagine a king emerging,
leaving all insecurities behind - because it is time.

Imagine this king, secretly pressing - under his red cloak -
his right hand on a spot a bit above his pounding heart,
bracing himself.
For all this is new.

Imagine a king who is human, and knows it.