The highest prayer—
the purest surrender—
is silent.
It transcends language,
outgrowing the need for words.
This is the prayer of absorption,
where nothing is asked,
and nothing withheld.
The culmination of all practice,
the root of worship,
the essence of every faith,
the heart of all wisdom.
In this stillness resides
The Mother of all Powers—
the wellspring of creation,
the source from which
every discovery unfolds,
the cradle
where inventions are born.
True absorption does not strive—
it dissolves.
It cannot be grasped by thought
or pursued by the mind.
To speak of this state
is to conceal it.
It slips beyond words,
revealing itself only in symbols,
in the soft language of the heart.
This Presence is not gained by effort
but by the quiet vanishing of the self—
the falling away of the veil
that parts
the seeker from the Sought.
For in that union's depth,
the zikr,
the zaakir,
and the mazkoor
are no longer three—
they are One.
MyKoul
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem