My Covenant Poem by Mystic Qalandar

Pursue the living water of life,
and steady the fever of your being—
that small self which chases the ever-widening canal,
endless, elusive,
a truth that slips through every grasp.
It smiles at the stones of identity,
ignores the dams of will,
and flows, a secret kept behind the veil.

Hold it as one soul holds another:
a mercy-filled breath inhaling the Divine Breath.
First, a whisper in the void.
Then, recognition—deep as the heart's own pulse.
And finally, annihilation,
as certain as the return.

Let it draw you
beyond the hollow shells of forbidden things,
beyond the concealed wounds of separation,
beyond the echo of names
that chain the shadowed self.

When the canal turns playfully,
turn with it—
leave the straight path behind.
When it descends into depths,
shape yourself to its course,
and dissolve into one sea.

There,
where light tears the final veil
and every form softens into flow,
Truth will be waiting—
its hand immersed in the primal stream,
whispering your true name:

the covenant
written before the illusion of time,
the vow rooted in pre-eternity,
never to be broken.

My Covenant.

— February,9,2026