It Was A Dream Poem by Mystic Qalandar

It was a dream—
woven on fragile threads,
where I had traced the pattern of my self—
a tapestry receiving
the silent hues of existence.

Then you appeared—
O, my counterfeit self! —
casting a kingly shadow
upon the fragile "I, "
showing me a palace
kneaded from the clay of night—
each brick a fragment of duality,
each stone whispering
its secret conspiracy—
until, in heedlessness,
I became its willing prey.

There you thundered, like Pharaoh:
"I am your supreme lord! "
And the echo seeped into my marrow,
became my rhythm,
until I believed
it was all mine.

A subtle venom then—
veiled in the wine of possession—
kept me intoxicated, dazed,
believing I had ascended
to a height where distance dissolves,
where expansion shatters
every boundary of form.

But then—
the eye of insight opened.
The waters of Truth and Falsehood parted.
With these hands,
I toppled the palace
that the Pharaoh within my soul
had built from the walls
of my deepest wanting.

Suddenly—
that grand spectacle,
that pageant of sovereignty,
dissolved in the breath of Spirit—
like dew—
where once the indelible cry,
"Is there yet more? "
forever resounded.

And then—
all was nothing but Light,
a Light so absolute
that shadows themselves learned,
in its tongue,
to chant hymns of praise.

This is the awakening—
where I burn
like a fixed star,
dispensing justice
to those inner foes
who wore the masquerade
of Truth.

The One who awakened me
did so for an awakening
that has no end—
placing me
in His radiant tower,
where time itself
flows in endless prostration.

Or perhaps—
I awoke within the dream—
awoke
from that first awakening—
to find the secret
that holds all others:

To wake and to dream—
two parallel streams
merging into one Sea.

And I know now
how Absolute Beauty,
through the veils of dream,
and through the human form most of all,
seals its signature
of Splendor.

—October,11,2025