The Call Of The Beloved Poem by Mystic Qalandar

My heart dances—
swaying in unclouded joy—
and that ecstasy deepens
whenever I hear
the call of the Beloved.

The very ground of my being
rests upon that primordial Voice;
it is the echo of a single sound
that keeps me, in every moment,
vivid, awakened, alive.

Listening to this melody of love
has stilled within me
the clamor of separation.

Since the dawn of creation,
my prayer, my longing,
my only plea has been this:

O Voice of Love—
for the sake of Your own essence,
grant me nearness.

My whole existence
is intoxicated by eternal love;
my every breath
a devotion to this sacred yearning.

Within each beat of my heart
resounds the thunder
and the tenderness
of Muhammad's call—peace be upon him.

Every joy in me
is illumined by that radiance;
every celebration
is a lamp kindled
by his remembrance.

The fire of love within me—
down to the marrow of my bones—
is steeped in the shining beams
of Muhammadan light.

He is my beloved:
the one who quenches
the thirst of my soul
with the water of life
drawn from the ocean
of his wisdom and knowing;

the one who illumines
the inward chambers of my being
with the light of his love.

In the abandoned garden of my heart,
spring returns again;
and from the cup of his divine gnosis,
each knot within the soul
loosens gently into peace.

This is grace—
pure and undeserved.
This is benevolence—
its truest form.

For me,
this is the most radiant meaning
of intercession.

My existence,
my body,
my eyes—
all are reflections
of this sacred bond.

I seek refuge
from every illusion
that leads me into heedlessness,
from every veil
that places distance
between my soul
and the inward presence
of the Beloved.

O solace of my grief,
O ease within every hardship—

my name,
my being,
my every breath
exist only
by the grace of God.

It is He
who poured the love of His Beloved
into the deepest chambers
of my heart.

And so I turn away
from all that displeases Him.

A heart emptied of love
mourns within its own wilderness;
but the heart into which
the name of Love descends—
for that heart,
even the wilderness
becomes a path toward spring.

Now every moment,
every breath,
every prayer
has dissolved into one enduring truth:

Love,
the Lover,
and the Beloved—

where the Call is He,
the Hearing is He,
the Light is He,
and the love within the heart
is wholly His gift.

— MyKoul