The Ever-Wakeful Eyes Of Life Poem by Mystic Qalandar

Our eyes of life never close—
they neither sleep nor slumber.
Light keeps watch, unwavering,
behind night's deepest veil.

Shadows gather in silence;
radiance softens, withdraws.
Sight does not fade—
it turns inward,
a banked flame, unseen yet alert.

Worlds dim at vision's edge,
but the Witness remains awake.
Dreaming never sleeps,
untouched by time,
drifting into subtler lands
where bonds loosen,
yet nothing is lost.

Pray not for the dead,
whispers the listening hush—
death is only light folded.
Silence keeps vigil over return;
absence remembers the Shape.

What seems extinguished
is a deeper rhythm, slow and sure.
When hope thins and embers cool
beneath the weight of grief,
the fire waits in the ash—
awake.
Light endures, veiled but undimmed.

Within the unsleeping gaze of Life
rest seeds of an unspoken dawn.
Do not mourn the nearness of shadow.
Night is a womb, never a tomb—
a watched chamber
where every dream is born again.

Ever-wakeful, they see within:
Endless.

—February,9,2026