This is the house of Love, which has no bound nor end.


Here, on the wild coast
where first we walked;
aquatic apes aching to be
drowned in what is
beyond myth, mind, metaphor,
even the soft music of an Indian Ocean
which has sung tat tvam asi
since before time began,
and will continue, bismillah,
long after it ends,
long after that last soul
standing at the edge cries


Here I am,
a god embodied,
but not how you think:
not this, nor this, nor that.

Not suffering, not pain,
not love, not light,
not grace, not grandeur,
not gratitude, not glory,
not majesty, not music.
Not birth, not death.

Though once we walked together,
barefoot on an endless beach,
bathed in nothing, obliterated
by what is not
this world, waiting
for the breaking wave
and one more chance to chant:

lā ʾilāha ʾillā llāh
lā ʾilāha ʾillā llāh
lā ʾilāha ʾillā llāh


Hanging on breath