I softly tread down marble halls, my bare feet echoing on white stone floors that have seen millions of souls just like mine.
I pass over the stoop that has felt the endless touch of foreheads prostrate in humble reverence.
I stand silently by an altar, coins and offerings scattered at my feet before this monument that is the silent ear for so many unknown prayers.
I can almost hear the silent supplications of all those that have come before, endlessly echoing from these golden walls.
This place spoke to each of them just as it speaks to so many today, just as it speaks to me.
Though my knees do not fold and my lips do not kiss the marble floor, though no muttered scripture falls from my tongue, though the songs on the air remain a mystery and their lyrics tell stories I do not know, though I bring no offering, leave no coin at the petaled base of the altar,
even so,
my mere presence here has bound me both to this sanctuary and to these strangers. To their prayers. To their alms. To their songs. To their hearts.
Every heart that has been bathed in the golden light of peace and charity is forever brightened and strengthened and soothed.
And now, my heart is counted among them. Many hearts, One love.
Written at the Harmandir Sahib ('the abode of god,' commonly known as the Golden Temple) in Amritsar, India.