Soundless Whisper Poem by Mystic Qalandar

By the window, a cuckoo perched upon a twig;
its song—a silken thread of dawn's call to prayer,
a breath of the unseen,
spun from the mist of pre-eternity.

Wordless, the ears of hearing opened;
the heart hung suspended,
lost in the dervishes' whirling chant of Hu—
neither earth remained, nor sky.

Upon the still lake within, a lotus bloomed—
born of water, bearing pearls of its own light
upon its leaves;
a crystal mirror holding moon and stars.

The cuckoo did not break
the patience of silence,
but poured forth
a ghazal of true love—
limitless, and pure.

I drowned in that very melody,
in the echo of the soul's own song,
as if the cuckoo
sang from within.

A longing to see arose;
a smile of divine radiance lifted the veil,
and in the mirror of unveiled beauty
I kept on beholding.

Beauty and the Seeing Eye
exchanged a soundless whisper—
no desire for grace,
no craving for any gift.

—February 3,2026