Resonance Of The Al-Samad Poem by Mystic Qalandar

A hidden echo thrums—unbound, profound—
A call like sacred bees in humming sound,
Drawing form from the womb of ʿAdam's ground,
The void before the Word: Kun!
I am consumed within the blaze of fanāʾ.
I Am Free.

Nothing speaks but God; all veils are rent.
The Real alone decrees—in testament.
I oscillate within the eternal chime,
The tick-tock of al-Azal to al-Abad's time.
I Am Free.

The echo welds me to the Real's pure ore;
Thought subsides in Āb-e-Hayāt's endless pour—
Ungrasped, pristine, forevermore.
I Am Free.

I gaze through semblance's fragile scrim:
No mirage-lure, no phantom whim—
Only That Which Is, by One Will spun,
The Dhāt that cannot speak its hymn.
I Am Free.

I venerate the bloom of Hu,
The One Seed's fractal, cosmic womb,
Discerning Love from shadow's artifice.
Fluid in Hu's bliss, I find my loom—
The Self's own timeless artifice.
I Am Free.

I tread the ṣirāṭ of Divine grace,
Chant the dhikr of the Formless Face.
True madness veils the Singular Sight—
That rift within the soul's abyssal waste.
I Am Free.

Restore me, primordial, to the Whole,
Ere worldly illusion and ego's veil
Ensnared the soul—
A fiction forged in ego's dying coal.
I Am Free.

Free to pierce the Aḥad's gate,
Free from dreams that separate.
No "who"—just ' I am the Truth' state.
I Am That I Am; I shed the weight.
I Am Free.

Let me be the Void's own decree.
I Am Free.

—January,2,2026