The Ocean Cannot Leave Itself Poem by Mystic Qalandar

Silence flowers behind my eyelids.
No one knows the rapture I harbor.
Sitting still, my heart leans again and again
toward the vastness spread before it—
a landscape without edge.

Love here is speechless.
It endures, unbroken,
in the chambers of the chest—
a work of Infinity's hand,
unstained by time.

My silent eyes lift.
I ask whether any bloom
has ever opened in this garden
but this one.

The One rests content behind its veils,
watching as my mystic gaze rises
to meet a thousand faces of itself.
All things appear only as That—
no foreign presence has ever possessed
my sight, my thought, my pulse.

I cannot conceive another vision
holding me so fully.
Yet I remain alone,
and silence fills the measureless soul.

Sometimes I drown as streams of love
descend into the heart.
How could I be other than ocean,
when every stream issues from it and returns?
They fall back into the same vastness
to show that nothing was ever separate.

The joy is too deep for thought's reach.
Its depths outpace understanding.
A weight gathers in the chest;
breathing becomes work.

And beyond the ache of longing,
a knowing stays:
I am what cannot go away.
I am what cannot vanish.
I am the ocean—
and the ocean cannot leave itself.

—MyKoul