Drowning In The Miracle River Poem by Mystic Qalandar

Drowning in the Miracle River,
of No Beginning and No End

And deeper still we descend,
seeking neither terminus
nor the illusory promise of arrival.

I abide there;
I drift, I dissolve,
through veils of night and day,
in the abyssal awe of these living waters—

until, at last,
even awe surrenders its voice.

The river recedes—
not into the void of nothingness,
but into a Mystery
no river can circumscribe.

The two souls persist,
the two flames still flicker;
yet all that seemed to stand apart
is beheld anew
in the radiance of the One
that no boundary can name.

And then—
beyond the river,
beyond its ceaseless waters,
beyond the hues
through which the Colourless discloses itself,
beyond even the mind
that would christen the Mystery—

the Real is not another vision
awaiting the seer.

No eye can compass It.
No thought can render It known.
No name can imprison Its Essence.

For the Real is not a shore
to which the soul attains,
nor a distant Light
towards which the seeker swims.

It is the unfathomable Truth
in whose light
the river flows,
the souls awaken,
and the very cleavage
between seeker and sought
is seen for what it is.

Nothing has crossed
from the unreal into the Real;
only the veil of misperception
has grown translucent.

And I surrender—
not to a conclusion,
not to an answer,
but to the boundless Truth
that no beginning can precede,
no ending can outlast,
and no consciousness
can encompass.

The river flows.
The flames burn.
The colours appear and dissolve.

The Real remains—
unconfined by all that manifests,
undiminished by all that passes,
beyond every image,
yet never absent
from the mystery of existence.

Here, I relinquish
the desire to possess
what no possession can contain.

I abide in wonder.

The river has no shore.
The Mystery has no measure.
And the Truth I seek
is not mine to contain.

It is enough
to behold,
to awaken,
and to learn—
ever more deeply—
what is Real.

I can no longer see
where my soul resides.

I am drowning in the miracle river
of no beginning and no end.

Yet I shall not die—
for I am drowned
in the river itself.

I am losing my "I-ness"
in its fathomless depths,
in the river
of no beginning
and no end.

Gone—
gone beyond return,
and yet not lost.

For forever,
my awakened soul
will celebrate
the ancient romance
it had with itself
upon this little planet Earth—

a romance in which
the lover and the beloved
were never truly two.

And perhaps this is the mystery:

I entered the river
believing I was the one
who sought the Truth.

I emerged nowhere.

For there was no shore,
no elsewhere,
no separate seeker
to arrive.

Only the river—
flowing without beginning,
flowing without end—

and this vanishing "I, "
finally transparent
to the One
in whom
lover and beloved,
seeker and sought,
river and soul,

were never truly two.

—MyKoul