There Are Voices All Don't Hear Poem by Mohammad Younus

There are voices all don't hear—
whispers that hover just beyond words.
Breathe in what is whispered,
for the whispers are the divine breath
shared within the beating heart,
convincing me: I am your fitrah, divine.

As the outside voices fade away,
singularity pulls me inward.
I only notice the moments
when wisdom descends upon me,
leading me to the sacred house
where warmth once lingered.
As I shiver, I seek warmth,
from the embrace of wisdom.

I see beauty in the mundane
and serenity in spiritual faces,
but I do not wear— the donkey jacket,
patched with doubts, illusions,
and the yoke of questionable morals.
I bear only the weight of the Divine Trust.

I do not sail in a ship, lost
in uncharted waters, plumb-line broken,
but in the ship of divine wisdom,
adjusting my voyage to its commands,
until a comforting whisper calls:
'Sail on, you are nearing the shore—
your destination is within reach.'

I wonder—I always wonder—
about the quiet spaces
where words fail me.
The whispers echo in my heart,
the divine song that calls me,
lost in the music,
unable to speak—bound by its pull.
Yet the song speaks of love,
and I listen, undistracted by the mind's call.

Like holding my hand, whispers inside—
a murmur of wisdom from the divine self,
telling me to prepare to carry the divine trust.
Something I don't fully understand,
but now I know it's the command of Alast.

There will be innocence once more,
if I return to my fitrah, my pure essence.
Divine presence, another version of it—
Still, I choose my Lord, saying yes, yes.

MyKoul