Under The Willow Poem by Mystic Qalandar

Softly, words of wisdom descend
beneath the willow, moonlight-silvered.
My Murshid's gaze rests upon me—
I dissolve
into the current
of his silent grace.

A melody stirs the still of night;
not the rustle of wings
or restless grass,
but a hymn breathed
by the unseen musician
behind the veil of form.

My soul trembles
with its own remembrance,
dancing to a rhythm older than sound,
burning
in the sweetness of this light.

Dawn awakens
like eternity remembering itself;
enlightenment unfolds
as shadows lose their names.

In the chambers of my forgotten home,
lamps flare with ancient fire,
and darkness flees,
its stories sinking into silence.

Now, under the willow,
light and music rise as one,
and the infinite begins to play
in laughter, in shimmer, in breath.

—October,12,2025