Hu—
the breath before meaning,
the sound that rises from the heart
before the tongue learns speech.
It is the pulse of my practice:
a sacred dhikr, passed hand to heart—
by the masters of the Path,
until it reached me
as fire reaches dry reed.
God has said:
"Indeed, the remembrance of Allah is greatest."
And within that greatest remembrance,
no utterance dissolves the self more utterly than
La ilaha illa Hu—
There is no god, no claim, no center but He.
The Beautiful Names unfold like meanings:
Mercy, Knowledge, Sustenance—
each a window opening onto Divine light.
But Hu opens no window.
It shatters the walls.
It is not an attribute to be contemplated,
but the abyss into which contemplation falls,
silent.
A pronoun without limit,
a sound that does not point—
for nothing remains outside it.
Thus the people of God cling to Hu alone,
until the heart is set ablaze with naked Unity,
and the one who remembers
is no longer found apart from
the One remembered.
—January,20,2026
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem