The Safest Abode Poem by Mystic Qalandar

The safest abode lies veiled—
not in distant galaxies,
but where souls breathe free,
unbound from mortal husks,
uncloaked of flesh's disguise.

Not here—
where bones inscribe
the scripture of every wound,
and hearts taste dread
before they dare to love.

Not here—
where minds fracture the One Infinite
into borders, names, and strife,
clutching at phantoms
as though they were the Real.

Not here—
in forms that tremble like leaves
to unseen winds,
in spans that fade as dawn's dew,
in worlds estranged
from their first Light.

No—
the true realm is
neither reached by distance
nor lost to time.
It lies beyond flesh's brief dominion,
beyond the borrowed rhythm of breath:
a domain where essence flows
unbound by craving, unmeasured by years,
where shadow returns to its source,
and nothing rises
only to fall away.

No place in space—
but the Great Remembrance:
a silent Motherland
where the soul stands boundless, One—
untouched by illusion's hand,
unafraid in the heart of the Vast.

And perhaps, in rare unveilings—
when the clamor of the separate self falls still,
when ego's chains dissolve
in a fire that leaves no ash and no smoke—
for a single breath, we remember:

we were never these brittle vessels of clay,
but the Vast, the Still—
the Ineffable Haven—
Absolute Oneness.

—MyKoul