The One Poem by Mystic Qalandar

One—the seed of every ending,
One—the harvest of every start;
One—the face behind all veiling,
One—the veil upon all hearts.

One before the first beginning,
One beyond the final breath;
One within each thing appearing,
One within the void of death.

All paths rise from this Fountain,
all rivers flow to this Sea—
and what we name as many
is only One
beholding One
through His every eye.

The One

One—the flame in every beauty,
One—the beauty in each flame.

Through the pupil of all seeing,
the One pours forth its ray;
yet the sight that turns from radiance
names the darkness day.

The open eye drinks starlight;
the sealed lid knows but night.
Light never chose to vanish—
it was the gaze
that lost its sight.

The One

You call to Him, and He is you;
you give thanks, and He is You.
The One who breathes the praying,
the One who hears the cried—
both Singer and the Song,
both Ocean and the Tide.

No other breathes beside Him:
the knower and the known,
the lover and the loved One,
the sower and the sown—
all return to One.

None but You, the Sovereign,
none but You, the slave;
none but You, the Seer,
none but You, the seen—
one Light,
one Grave.

The One

In the Zulumāt's deep shadow,
the Sāqī raised his bowl
and gave MyKoul the water
that makes the spirit whole.
The self dissolved like morning mist,
the 'I' became a sigh—
and in that utter vanishing,
he found he could not die.

The One

Ever-living breathed him
through all that is and is not—
until the wave remembered:
it was always Ocean,
always one,
always the kiss.

—MyKoul