The Eternal Now I Live In Poem by Mystic Qalandar

Past and future—mere names, no ground to stand.
Time resists division; its seam is thought's own hand.
What was done in that curved margin we call past
is done again in this breath, close at hand.

The hidden flame of every ancient act
dwells in this hour—no deed is ever cracked.
Only the luminous now is touchable:
this constant birthing, this eternal fact.

O paradox I love: now cannot be lost,
yet never endures—like wine a cup has tossed.
It unfolds into pure, uncounted being,
a pulse beneath all reckoning and frost.

I may not judge this instant's narrow door,
for choices made in youth still braid its floor—
embroidered deep into its living fabric.
What Time has stitched, she cannot now ignore.

I abide where life unseals itself alone,
a witness to the pulse on a throne of bone,
watching the moment widen and become—
not future's slave, nor past's forgotten stone.

I stand always in this returning present,
beyond the thin maps that make of time a peasant.
What I shaped in youth—each small, lit act—
remains accomplished here, forever recent.

Seated within the single eye of now,
the eternal aperture where all things bow
and are consummated: no loss, no drift—
only this cup, this breath, this seamless vow—
of Alast in now.

─MyKoul