Unveiling The Beloved Of Eternity Poem by Mystic Qalandar

I first beheld the Unborn
when I returned to that pure stillness
before the world was divided by names—
in the guileless gaze of the child
who had not yet learned to sever
the seer from the seen.

There, I glimpsed the One
smiling through the sun's resplendent fire,
and upon the moon's changing face—
that pale mirror of borrowed radiance
waxing from a silver sliver
to the fullness of its roundness,
ever turning toward the unseen Source
from which all light descends.

And Earth was no longer mere ground,
but a shy and sacred Laila,
standing before Majnun
with lowered eyes,
then lifting them for a fleeting moment
to meet his gaze.

In that secret exchange
I saw the cosmos become a mirror:
not reflecting itself,
but revealing the Face of the One
through the thousand forms of beauty.

The Dreamer was dreaming,
and the dream was not other than the Dreamer;
the seer, the seen, and seeing itself
were gathered into one mystery.

Then Divine Light
pierced the veil of my heart—
not as something foreign,
not as a light arriving from elsewhere,
but as remembrance:

the awakening of what had never departed,
the ancient radiance of consciousness
that shines through the stars,
through the sun at noon,
through every living breath.

I heard, beneath all sounds,
the Music of the Beloved—
the silent rhythm by which existence breathes,
the hidden note within becoming and passing away.

Even when the mind enters its dark night,
that Music does not cease.
It is the ground beneath appearance,
the silence beneath every sound,
the Presence beneath every absence.

Yet, O my soul,
beware the cunning of the mind.

It builds its labyrinths
and calls them knowledge;
it lights a little candle of doubt
before the boundless Fire of Truth.

What can the finite grasp
of That which leaves no separate hand
with which to grasp it?

What can thought possess
of That before which thought itself
must become still?

Then the eternal Flame arose—
not to destroy the world,
but to consume the illusion
that the world exists apart from the One.

It entered the citadels of ego
and reduced their walls to ash;
it burned the scaffolding of concepts,
the idols fashioned by thought,
the names we mistook for Reality.

And when the last fragment of self-made darkness
had fallen away,
nothing remained to be defended,
nothing remained to be possessed—

only the Formless Flame
in the vast silence of His Grace.

Then I understood
what my deepest consciousness
had eternally been seeking:

the Reality hidden
in the hollow of every atom,
yet transcending the totality of worlds;

the Truth that no name can contain,
yet flows through every name;

the Presence that has never been absent—
the very I AM
before the separate I arose.

The Beloved—

the Attributeless clothed in Attributes,
the Unseen revealed through forms,
the Infinite blossoming as the finite,
the One appearing as the many
without ever becoming other than One.

He is the essence of all that is,
all that was,
and all that shall be—

the hidden root of every form,
the light within every light,
the silence within every song,
the Beloved within every act of love.

All things are His manifestations,
yet none can contain Him.

All forms arise from Him,
return to Him,
and, in their deepest truth,
were never separate from Him.

One Seed—
countless blossoms.

One Light—
infinite mirrors.

One Beloved—
and all existence,
His unveiling.

—MyKoul