The God We Already Had

This is not a book about finding God.It is a book about losing the search.For thousands of years, the human has looked for the sacred in stone rooms, old books, borders, and empty skies.And all the while, the sacred sat quietly in the next room.In the kitchen. In the father's smoky shirt. In the dying dog's eyes. In the elderly parent's open mouth. In the banyan tree that knows your smell. In the sad eyes of a dying father. In the red eyes of a grown man crying alone for his dog. In the face of the one you loved most.The God We Already Had is not a book of answers.It is a return.It walks through the search, the wound, the split, and the silence - and finally stops at the only worship that ever mattered.The feeding of the old. The love for the forgotten. The gratitude that shakes inside the chest.This is poetry for those who have searched and grown tired.For those who have loved a dying animal. For those who have fed an aging parent. For those who have knelt and questioned. For those who have stood at the waterfall and forgotten every number.Spare. Devastating. Honest.These poems do not preach. They open a window.And the wind that comes through smells like home.This book is also a message in a bottle. For those who come after us. When the truth is clear. And the cost is already counted.Read it slowly. Let it cut. Let it heal.Because the sacred was never far.It was already in your hands.