My little soul is not a mere drop in the bucket
but according to Meher a drop in an ocean
without a shore, without sky above nor floor below.
An ocean if there is only ocean.
And my soul is not on a journey –
no space to move through,
nowhere to go and no time to get there.
I have no fellow beings, no boundaries,
no autonomy, no existence.
And yet here I am – every day just as if
there were days and nights, lives and deaths,
flesh and bone, five senses, mind and knowledge.
Here I am, o Lord, calling to You
as if You had ears and I had a throat and tongue.
O child of God, let your mind twist and swirl
until it’s dashed upon the stones of that nonexistent shore.