The Unseen Keeps Its Vigil Poem by Mystic Qalandar

Let reality breathe—
through the hidden hymn of silence,
the secret pulse of song,
trembling, longing to emerge.

Once, within thought's wandering labyrinth,
I brushed away the ancient dust
and found a quiet radiance
returning from its exile.

It waits in the hush
between star-chants
and the city's dimming breath.

The universe remembers softly—
each dawn speaks my forgotten name,
each breath gathers dust
and folds it back into becoming.

No longer forsaken,
I rise as seed;
each descent opens
a sacred opening.

I ask not what has fallen away,
but what still turns toward the light.
The Unseen keeps its vigil.

Night listens deeply,
and the stars relearn their burning—
without shadow, without desire.

Even fear is life—
its trembling a faint echo
of breath's first, frantic prayer.

And life,
fractured or whole,
remains the one eternal miracle.

Now, I wish only
for the dawn to enter me,
to enter me wholly,
entirely new.

—November,9,2025