The Round Without End Poem by Mystic Qalandar

I no longer fear death—
more and more as I grow older—
for it has lost its power
to make me tremble.

Death is not an ending,
but a celebration of resurrection:
what dies is only the passing form,
never the Eternal that lives through all.

It is not the fear of ceasing
that moves me now,
but the certainty of continuing—
living again and again
through new and ever-newer expressions
of the One Transcendent Being.

In every human face,
in every creature, stone, river, and star,
that One endlessly unfolds,
seeking ever fuller perfection,
a clearer expression
of its essential Self.

Therefore none are truly lost.
Neither self nor other
can fall into nothingness,
for all are held
within the indivisible Oneness.

The One expresses the many,
and the many express the One.
Thus all things are deathless
in the eternity of That
which alone truly is.

And this is a road without end,
which I must forever tread—
not toward some other destination,
but deeper and deeper still
into the infinite Whole,
where nothing is ever lost,
and all things are forever revealing
the transcendent reality.

— MyKoul