Mystic True Essence Poem by Mystic Qalandar

My true essence stands as witness
in a jihad no eye can perceive.
The inciting self—the ego—leans into me,
whispering departures from the light;
yet this very war is tempered
in the blaze it cannot contain.

In the hollows of the void,
where even hope loosens its name,
my essence remains—
closer than my falling.
There is no triumph, no ascent to grace,
but the quiet victory within—
a conquest the world cannot measure,
yet worn upon me like an unseen crown:
that I may walk, unbroken,
into what I already am.

The breath of life,
set within me before dawn was imagined,
stirs what never slept.
There is a sound beneath my hearing—
not music, yet it moves me.
When it rises, I am taken,
as though something in me remembers
what I never learned.

That same essence,
dimmed by the passing shadow of self,
unfolds without end—
a voiceless call
arming me against my own disguises.

I long for the Eternal Now—
yet even this longing betrays me,
for nothing has ever been absent.
He—the Architect of my longing—
remains as He has always been,
loving me with a fire
that did not begin with me.

He was the nearness in my yesterdays,
the pulse I borrow in this moment,
and the stillness
to which I cannot be lost.

— MyKoul