I Am A Spark Poem by Mystic Qalandar

I am a spark,
but I have forgotten
that a spark's purpose
is not to burn itself—
it is to ignite.

If Illusion and ignorance
have shattered my spiritual world
into a thousand fragments,
then from these very shards
I shall rebuild
that ancient realm of the soul
anew.

Though the garden has withered
beneath my feet,
I know well
that autumn is but the herald
of spring.

The stones
that the enemy—manifest and clear—
hurled to demolish
my spiritual sanctuaries—
with those same stones
shall rise the temple of my resolve.

That hypocritical soul
who falsely claimed
to be guardian of my sacred flames—
who sought, in truth,
to extinguish with its breath
the light that burns within me—
the wounds its stones of duplicity
carved upon my spirit:
they are not wounds;
they are windows
opening onto new paths.

That hypocrite afflicted me
with a sickness steeped in blood,
because it could not bear
the intensity of my flight.
That hypocrite turned the key
to imprison me—
yet with that very key
I unlocked the shackles of my courage.

The hypocrite raised a clamor
that the flaw lay in me—
but now my polished mirror
reflects only the dust upon its own face.

That spark, which lay hidden
beneath the weight of its deceptions,
now stirs as molten fire,
impatient to erupt.
This gift is no poisoned well—
it is the Water of Life,
granted only to souls
that thirst and yearn.

If that hypocrite has made my life
fuel for an ordinary fire,
then I shall transform that fire
into a sacred blaze.

If I am a reflection of God,
then even this face of God is true—
one that first breaks the old structure,
so that an immortal work of art may be born.
If He breaks the artist's heart,
it is so that from broken strings
the most beautiful music may arise.

So now, I no longer burn—I set the fire.
I no longer cry—I turn my pain into words.
I no longer shatter—I build.
Every broken stone now marks
the road I have walked,
because I have learned
that light is born precisely where
darkness has exhausted itself.

—MyKoul