When The Winds Of Forgetfulness Swept The Garden Poem by Mohammad Younus

When the winds of forgetfulness swept the garden,
and Adam, cloaked in longing, stepped into dust,
the echo of a promise lingered still:
'I will send guidance for you.'

O traveler, do you not hear it?
In the hush of dawn, in the river's sigh,
in the ache no earthly joy can soothe—
it calls, it calls, always it calls.

Separation was never exile,
but a veiling of the heart's own light,
where the mirror dimmed with self's illusion,
and the parched soul drank from fleeting streams.

Yet even in shadow, the flame remains;
even in the marketplace of distraction, silence hums.
Within the pulse of longing, a door trembles—
the path is not lost, only unseen.

But woe to the one who turns away,
who numbs his thirst with passing mirages,
who buries the voice that whispers within—
for his hands will grasp only dust,
his breath will tighten in an unlit cave,
his days will wander, though his pockets overflow.

And when the veil is lifted,
when the dawn of truth floods the soul,
what will he see but darkness?
For the eyes of the heart, once closed,
do not open in a world built of light.

O seeker, let not the fire of remembrance fade.
Breathe the Name that is your origin,
walk the road that circles back to the Garden.
For in every breath of dhikr,
Paradise is near.

—MyKoul