No, Not The Tongue Of Nihilism Poem by Mystic Qalandar

No, not the tongue of nihilism,
nor the ash-song of nothing at all.
Do not yearn for what lies beyond—
the beyond never truly left here.

Do not hunger for the unseen—
it has already poured itself into appearance,
into shadow as much as into light,
into every visible disguise.

Do not mourn what seems absent—
Presence cannot be separated from the present.
Even silence is filled
with the moving breath of eternity.

I once feared I had lost the Transcendent—
that doorway opening beyond all becoming—
but I did not yet know:
the beyond is nowhere else.

It wakes within stone,
sleeps in rivers,
peers through the eyes of the living,
hums in the dust of dying stars.

The Infinite does not wait
behind some far edge of the world—
it unfolds within it.

What we call the ordinary
is divinity itself,
in work clothes of a laborer—
Transcendent's habitual disguise.

So abandon the longing, traveler—
that longing which imagines truth
lies just beyond the horizon.

Reality is here:
whole, unbroken,
unseeable itself,
yet seeing through every form—
forever beyond the world,
and yet breathing within it.

— MyKoul