The Music Of Creation Poem by Mystic Qalandar

From a shared gaze,
a single tone Hu is born—
that tone alone is true.
Hearing it, the self
melts into silence.
This is reality itself:
a ground where—
nothing stands apart.

Silence speaks no word,
yet calls:
Enter. Breathe—
and breath remembers its dawn.

Here, the first chord of
wahdat al-wujud,
an endless sea of tawhid,
where waves rise as light,
unproclaimed.
A hidden pulse cradles
the shape of things,
weaving multiplicity
into manifestation's veil—
all unity strung upon a single thread.

Mind bows. The heart flames awake.
Melodies erupt:
the first bliss, the first swell—
a rapture without sound.

In sama', breath becomes dhikr;
presence unbars the soul.
Tuned to essence,
it hears the seamless rhythm of being.
Gnosis stirs:
Beneath all forms, only One.

Wahdat al-wujud— no creed,
but the countenance of reality,
framing everything.
Burnish the heart's mirror:
Names descend as music,
mercy's tide
and intention's blaze, a gleam.

These are metaphors
for the veiled treasure
Ibn Arabi saw
in the dance of mirrors.
Part the veil.
Risk the light.
From the prism of being,
slake your thirst.

Bliss arrives
on manifestation's tide.
The rainbow shatters;
the One blooms manifold.
Return to the Source—
that boundless glass—
where Lover, Beloved, and Love
are revealed as One.

There is no end here;
the circle turns back to its beginning.

At last, it whispers:
I Am.

—December,13,2025