The Great Yes Poem by Mystic Qalandar

Although the waterfall breaks
itself open here,
the fields still wait—
quietly, patiently—
to spill their hidden grain
into the hands of the hungry.

Some lives arrive at night
not as darkness,
but as decision:
a silent moment
when the soul must say
the great Yes
or the great No.

No—to the stars disguised as daylight,
to what blinds by brightness,
to what hides itself in plain sight.

Yes—to the stars already burning inwardly,
waiting behind the eyes
for recognition.

Some rise only by the weight of their certainty,
climbing honor upon honor
like stone upon stone.
But the one who refuses night's deeper seeing
does not touch
what moves beyond thought.

Asked again,
he answers the same—
still blind to the opening behind blindness.

And that No—
not just refusal,
but a closing of the inner gate—
pulls him downward,
quietly, completely,
from imagined heights
into the hollow below them.

Or he becomes something else:
a blade of dry grass
letting the river decide its direction,
or a nightingale
singing through winter air
to a rose that is not there.

No one is asked to mock such longing.
Spring is not canceled—
only delayed beyond control.

Do not search frozen waters for certainty.
Do not interrogate snow
for answers it cannot hold.
Be patient with your seasons.
They are not mistakes.

Something in you is still unfolding—
slowly, without permission.
Do what you must
to keep one light alive
in both thorn and blossom.
Let the great No fall away
like an old skin.

Time does not pause for us—
we are the ones
learning stillness inside its motion.

Take only this moment—
not as fragment,
but as the face of the One
wearing everything at once.

— MyKoul