Each morning I build my dream house
on a narrow spit in the great blue sea,
a citadel rising and shining
along the length of the day.
Each night, the tide turns, invades the shore -
everything uprooted, pulled asunder
by the flooding waters. I observe the ruination
and, with canny clarity, the prejudice
and error, the insularity and pride with which
I had stood sure-footed by the light of day.
Curled up and trembling in the dark,
from my heart's incontestable bottom,
I call Your name, Your name, Your name
until a light breaks over the horizon -
Your presence, a bulwark again the blows
of the overwhelming sea.
I arise on Your assurances, for another
morning prayer, another whole-hearted,
arduous day of labor upon the house of my dreams
upon that narrow spit in the great blue sea.
O child of God, doubt yourself and trust Meher.
Dissolution is opportunity; obliteration - absolution.