A Simple Song Poem by Mystic Qalandar

From the deep well of the heart,
vibrations rise and gather—
not as notes, but a living current
that carries the listener
into its own flowing.

Each rhyme opens its quiet arms,
smiling with the secrecy of dawn:

'Come.
Be my breath.
Sing with love—

La ilaha illa Hu.'

A song descends
from the soul's hidden chamber
and inscribes itself
upon the heart's unwritten page.

Every turn, every cadence,
the hush between two breaths—
beckons me onward
to the country before speech,
where words have not yet awakened,
where melody draws its first breath,
and meaning stirs
in the womb of silence.

I listen,
and praise rises of itself.
Its tenderness needs no ornament.
Its quiet cadence calls me
deeper than my own name.

Then the heart of the song whispers:

'Your name is but an echo of Mine.
I have worn a thousand names,
as light wears a thousand colours
upon the face of water.
Yet before every name, every form,
I remain the Hidden One
whom no name can contain.'

The whisper deepens—
rain entering thirsty earth:

'I have hidden a treasure
beneath the veil of becoming.
Who polishes the mirror of the heart
will find
the Face long sought
is the very Light by which he sought.'

And the song became the seeing;
the seeing became the Known;
the Known dissolved the knower.

Then the poet is nowhere to be found.
Only the song remains.
Then even the song falls silent—
like a river losing itself
in the sea.

Only That remains—
which sang before the first dawn,
which sings within every heart,
and shall sing
when the last echo
has returned to silence—

La ilaha illa Hu.

—MyKoul