The Caller Speaks Poem by Mystic Qalandar

Be silent,
and let the scattered birds of your thoughts
return to the solitary tree of the heart.

Close the outer gates
so the inner music may rise—
that uncreated melody,
older than time itself,
whispering only 'Hu.'

You search for the Caller
in every corner of the heavens and earth,
yet He is right here,
smiling in your eyes.

He has always been watching you—
that hidden Essence,
who hears His own call
echo within you.

You are the flute,
and His breath is the song.
You are the string,
and His touch is the vibration.

Do not try to seize the Caller;
you cannot.
Better to surrender yourself to Him.

You seek the one who sings the song;
Yet, you are the instrument of the song,
And God himself listens to the song from you.

Seek,
but do not demand.
Ask,
but let the answer bloom in its own season.

In silence,
ask and listen as one—
two wings of a single flight.

For the answer
is folded within the question,
and the question
is you—
God's own way
of asking about Himself.