Spark Of Hu Poem by Mystic Qalandar

In a single breath,
with no pause
between inhale and exhale,
I hold Your name—
woven into breath itself—
just sounding Hu,
as if the current of Hu
spins at the circle's edge,
round and round,
a wheel of light,
a whisper turning
into wind.

The age-old covenant binds me
to the uncreated zikr of Hu,
the first and final syllable
before time began.
My heart unravels
the song of Alast
before form was shaped—
a necklace of sacred sound:
Alast… Hu—
still hanging
from the neck of ruh,
still humming
in the hollow of my self.

Now, as I move my index finger
across screens of light and text,
You—
the poem before me—
a flicker, a spark
in my mind's dark,
kindling the unseen—
begin to flow
through my fingertip:
a river of light,
revealing Yourself
from the hidden realms,
where silence wears
the robe of revelation,
and a new hymn is woven
into the fabric of gnosis.