Realizing I Knew Far Less Poem by Mohammad Younus

Realizing I knew far less—
than I believed,
I stripped away the weight
of imagined wisdom,
let fall the shimmering veil—
the self I artfully had made.

I stood bare, without the armor
of gnosis and illusion,
watching myself—
silent, steady—
as if from afar.

The days passed,
like rivers beneath winter's ice.
In fleeting reflections,
I glimpsed myself—
and wondered:
Is this truly I,
or the shadow of one
I once pretended to be?

I gave up the illusion of knowing,
let the mask slip from my mind,
beheld the vast night
lingering behind my eyes.
How long have I drifted,
lulled by familiar patterns,
circling the same shores?
How many footsteps traced paths
that never led me
where my heart longed to go?

I watched the quiet unraveling.
Relationships—once upheld by habit—
dissolved like mist
as I loosened my grasp.
Some faces faded.
Some remained.
But none belonged to me,
as I once believed.

I let my hands shape new ways,
unbound from routine,
turning—at last—
toward unfamiliar directions.
I did things differently.
I did different things.

And in the emptiness left behind,
something stirred—
a soft hum beneath the noise—
of becoming.

I listened closely and felt,
perhaps this is the sound
of waking.

And I was enlightened
by the simple discovery:
I do not know
what I believed I knew.

MyKoul