Now I Know: Who Am I Poem by Mystic Qalandar

Lost beyond the gaze in the desolate desert of multiplicity—
I carve my essence into the heart's granite cliff,
trampling veils of illusion, thrusting aside a thousand shadows.

I flow as the boundless ocean of Wujūd
to kiss the eternal Isle of Ahadiyyah,
recalling the soul's ashen hands from pre-eternity's forge.

In every vein of the ancient nafs,
the primordial fire writhes—ecstatic, agonized.

Like the Ruh ascending through Malakut's dust-veiled realms,
I traverse the world's phantom fields
in quest of Sidrat al-Muntahā's shade,
where veils dissolve in the breath of Hayy.

I crave the subsistence of the primordial covenant—
that azali existence
witnessed before the descent of the hijab.

Yet I am no stranger at pre-eternity's garden gate;
eons ago, I dwelt as light in the Lahūt.
Molded in nature's alchemical crucible,
this base form was breathed
with the Ruh of luminous Haqīqah.

I am alive—not "mine, " not bound to fanā's wheel.
I seek no second baqā—
I was never lost;
the Sirāt al-Mustaqīm was etched in azal.

Bathed in the soul's tajdīd of Nūr Muḥammadī,
an ineffable burūq,
a celestial naqsh al-laṭīf resonates within.

In the eye of the heart's sirr,
Love erupts—the flooding Yam al-ʿIshq.
Veils rend asunder in kashf's thunder—

Now I know:
Who am I?
The polished mirror of Dhāt al-Wāḥid.
Why here?
To behold the līlā of shadows upon the Face.

Never was there but the One—
Luminous.
Real.
Abiding.

—January, 29,2026