Not only where the Vedas roam, Is Atman found or called its home.
Hindu is he who sees the soul, In all that moves, in every whole.
Not born to caste, nor claimed by land, But known by heart and open hand.
Where sacred rivers may not flow, The flame of truth can still bestow.
No one is less, no one above, The law of dharma springs from love.
Where kindness walks and ego dies, There shines the Lord in human guise.
So call him Hindu, not by blood, But one who rises past the mud.
Who bows to life in every face, And sees in all the same One grace.
