The Call Within Poem by Mystic Qalandar

I do not write
to please the crowd,
nor to glorify myself.

I write in remembrance of a promise—
spoken long before clay took form,
in that gathering of light.

When the question came:
Am I not your Lord?
the soul of Adam replied:
Yes.
That yes still pulses in our veins,
a fire crowning us with honor,
greater even than angels.

I write for the one
who sees with the heart's eye,
whose hand bears light,
whose tongue declares unity:
There is none but Him.

I honor the guide
who lifts burdens not as chains,
but as a father's care—
in his arms, love becomes strength,
faith becomes wings.

I remember the ancient decree:
I will place upon the earth a guardian.
From that word
humanity drew its courage—
to rise beyond the skies,
to awaken to itself.

By nights
when darkness could not
extinguish belief,
by mornings
when the Ever-Living tore
the veil from the world—
I write for that book
etched into creation,
each letter breathing
eternal life.

I write
with the light of the eye
ground into ink,
the pen dipped in
the mystery of holiness.

These words—
a balm for the broken-hearted,
a stirring for those
who have forgotten their souls.