The Glasses Of Soul Be Never Stained Poem by Mohammad Younus

The glasses of the soul be never stained
By the worthless, acidic rain of tears.
Throughout your years, remain
Sowing seeds of purest light—
So you need never ask anyone
For guidance through the dark.
No one can— you must burn your own
Beacon of light to find your way.

Through zulumat, into the sacred valley of Tuwa,
As if you are Moses, addressed by Allah:
'O Moses! Remove your sandals,
For you stand in the sacred valley of Tuwa.'
Pause, reflect on your divine self;
Perhaps you'll see the light
Streaming from the blessed tree,
Calling out to you:

'Verily, I am God—accept Me.
There is no other god but Me.
Pray to Me and remain steadfast,
To hold Me in your memory forever.'

There is no other divine—
You need only know your True Self.
When your heart is split open,
Light floods in, music resounds,
Echoing as long as time ticks on.

The light and melody of the divine voice
Shall reveal your hidden essence,
Whispering holy truths:
'It is wrong to think, 'I am nothing.'
Your fate is set, as is all else.'
Sit still and ask yourself,
'What am I working for? '

In silence, you'll hear a whisper:
'You are doing God's will—
What you dream, what you hope, what you fear,
All arise from your ancient self,
From the depths of your soul's wisdom.'

Your divine eyes define the phrase 'I Am.'
You've toiled to understand this truth,
Spending days and nights
In the tightest of spaces,
Both mental and spiritual.
Yet, you will never sever
Your secret connection to the divine—
It's unbreakable, immutable.

Be a gnostic, who exists nowhere
Yet always in the divine presence,
In perpetual remembrance.

MyKoul