When I Talk To Myself Poem by Mohammad Younus

When I talk to myself
about the task assigned to me,
I speak of something lovely,
beautiful, precious—
something I carry,
buried deep
in my subconscious mind.

And when I converse
with this hidden depth,
it whispers:
Go, enter the state of longing—
Wake up
from the ancient slumber.

Since that eternal hour,
I have been moving
toward wakefulness.
I say:
I want to be aware of myself—
to feel what is present,
yet veiled, within me.

What is this urge
pressing me
to uncover my hidden reality?
Why does it feel so worthwhile
to see what lies beneath?

When I declare my wish to wake,
what remains unexplored within me?
What is this presence
I have carried since before my birth—
born from pre-eternity,
conceived by an original thought,
a yearning fused with a wish:
to unite with the essence
alive within me?

Is this the treasure within,
seeking to be known?
Hidden—
yet magnetically drawing me
to the infinite that I am.

What is this I-AM,
that claims Infinity
within my finite being?

This poor mind of mine—
this fragile heart—
becomes a vessel
for the vast One.

What is this
presence and absence
that calls itself I-AM?

I am myself a living answer
to this question.
I am both:
the questioner and the questioned,
the witness and the Witnessed,
the seeker and the sought,
the absent and the present.

MyKoul