Isn't It So Poetic— Poem by Mohammad Younus

Isn't it so poetic—
that we die, only to live again?
We strive for enlightenment,
for answers to the unyielding why?

And yet, in the pitch of night,
one breath—just one—
can scatter the shadows.
Darkness dissolves into light,
and from illusion's fog,
a seed of wisdom emerges,
born from the sound of a single bell—
Gabriel's bell.

Isn't it ironic?
Gabriel remains unseen,
and his jingling bells fall
on deaf ears that fail to listen.
The music of the divine,
a symphony we cannot hear,
is lost as we crane our necks,
peering out the window,
searching for where the sound begins.

As if the scorching wind could burn
the ancient green chinar,
stripping its grandeur to barren limbs,
leaving us with emptiness to ponder.

And so we walk,
meandering the labyrinth of existence,
wondering where our wisdom has gone,
wandering through the verses
of life's unwritten poetry.

Do we leave our own songs behind?
What echoes shall remain?
Will our words take root like seeds,
or scatter as whispers in the storm?

The labyrinth asks no questions;
it mirrors our search.
The end of one line—
is it not the beginning of another?

Isn't it so poetic—
to die, and then to live,
to lose and then to find,
to hear the bell and grasp the silence—
to leave the window
and see the divine within?

MyKoul