The Living Walk Amongst Us Poem by Mystic Qalandar

They are the living
who walk amongst us—
unmistakable,
a tremor beneath the calm.

They rise through Takiah's whisper,
meet the Sheikh with truths unspoken,
and summon the kindred-hearted—
branding the sacred instant
into your very soul,
their gaze a flame
splitting silence open.

They are the living,
whose laughter fractures
the world's fragile veneer—
a clarion cry
lifting above
the slow decay of days.

A long, unyielding shadow trails them—
each step a solemn vow,
their passage etching
eternity upon the fleeting.

They are the living,
commanding the subway's pulse,
their call an oracle
reverberating through
the primal void.

Unseen, yet undeniable;
unclaimed by the crowd,
an asynchronous hymn
coursing through
the spaces between—
heard in hearts
that dare not feign deafness.

They are the living,
breaching the veil
of the mundane
in the crush
of suffocating daylight—
a sanctified defiance.

Their mystic fire endures—
a solitary flame,
untamed by
the world's cold gaze.

They are the living
who walk amongst us—
impossible to overlook.

Do not turn away.
They bear eternity here,
unfolding the infinite
within each
fleeting breath.

—November,25