One Who Clings Too Tightly To "I" Shall Lose The Breath Divine Poem by Mohammad Younus

One who clings too tightly to "I" shall lose the Breath Divine—
The self must burn to rise, to choose the Breath Divine.

Clear the marshy pool of thought—let silence be your guide,
Let stillness mirror back, infuse the Breath Divine.

The soul's a flame, enshrouded in the smoke of self—
Its light returns when we diffuse the Breath Divine.

When nafs dissolves, the heart becomes a lamp of truth—
The house within begins to use the Breath Divine.

No moon or star can rise in mind's illusioned tide—
The sky is cleared when winds peruse the Breath Divine.

The northern breeze sweeps shadows from the soul—
And dawn is robed in hues that muse the Breath Divine.

The chest is polished, freed of night's dual stain,
When hearts are those that dare to choose the Breath Divine.

Though soul belongs to realms no eye has ever seen,
The self still grazes—shunning the Breath Divine.

O radiant soul, why hide behind the veils of doubt?
You are the King's own hawk—your ruse? The Breath Divine.

The moth that circles flame but fears to kiss the fire
Will never know the light—nor lose the Breath Divine.

The seeker's cry is but the echo of the Friend—
A call returned when we produce the Breath Divine.

The mirror's face is wiped by longing's trembling hand,
Till nothing clouds, nor dares refuse the Breath Divine.

The falcon's wings are clipped by chains of transient dust—
Yet still it strains, and dares pursue the Breath Divine.

Why mourn the cage, when flight is etched within your bones?
Break every bar—unshackle, fuse the Breath Divine!

The wine of love is poured in cups of hollow bone—
Drink deep, MyKoul, be suffused: the Breath Divine.

MyKoul