1645 the foundation stone was laid by my brother, a man of the same skin but different in faith.
The fifth light of Nanak enters from four corners, the worthless, the royal, above and in between, open to those of all colors and creeds.
(Guru) Arjun (Dev) brought Him over in 1604, written with his bare hands, and this legacy still lives on today.
(Guru) Arjun (Dev) my king instructed this mass build, carved it with his bare hands, the very ones that are placed upon this faith as I looked up at his creation.
God is in all but can't always be seen, but I saw Him and His essence at 4:15 a.m., watching The King of Kings be carried on his throne into His mansion.
What kind of Emperor, what kind of Maharajah allows those of failures and foul fortunous lives sit with Him in His own home?
As I drenched my soul in the ambrosial pool I felt my sins wash off me, melt into the nectar, I share with thousands around me.
Five dips: One for each throne, for every item that identifies me, for the evils, the beloveds. One for every morning prayer that is sung by his loyal children.
As the Sun rises the spirits gather around me praising (Guru) Gobind Singhs' favorite song.
Each dip, for the fifth form Nanak, each dip remembering his humility and humbleness.
The 19th century saw a warrior reigning my motherland. Lions beckoned to his call, he came he conquered and his shakti triumphed sending storms through the soil.
Ranjit Singh was the definition of royalty, but when he saw his gateway to the Guru he laid his head down and became the dust off His feet.
Because of him, I see gold and plaques filling every crack in my site.
Because of him guilded dust sweeps the marble floors and perfectly carved ornaments drape from every wall.
An impeccable purity is the only way of describing the earth my Guru's touch.
And when I look up at this palace, I know why I have such delirious sensations.
My Guru has given me darshan everyday. Heaven looks into my eyes and urges me to pray, it is such symphony that chains me to this place.
The melody of my Lord is so sweet I can taste it in the breeze.
The birds are in awe and mystics come from every dimension of the universe to listen to the tune of contentment.
And if your being is blessed you may see (Guru) Ram Das between the musicians and the poetry, entranced by the sound of His Own Words.
We all hear the Shaheeds, the Singhs roaring with laughter.
Feel the sanctity in the air and inhale the aroma of benevolence.
This world may be false but in it lies our liberation.
So go child let your soul enjoy it's home.