Whispers Beyond Alast Poem by Mystic Qalandar

I listened for the Word—
what secret did it breathe today?
The primordial question, eternal, vast:
Am I not your Lord?

And from the depth arose:
Balā— Yes—
sealing again that covenant
where spirits witnessed in silent flame.

The Word—the ceaseless dhikr of the Real—
unveils the truth held in Alast's embrace:
You are of Me, from Me, to Me—
in every atom, I am.

Yet veils of fancy once clouded the sight,
a mist of conjecture, a self-wrought dream,
fashioning idols from the Unseen's light.
I sought Your Face in the seventh height,
craving the smile of the Beloved's gaze.

But the clouds whispered a hidden vow:
We dissolve in the downpour of mercy,
yielding to the rising Sun of Truth—
a rainbow-tajallī arching through the soul,
seven hues of longing inscribed
upon the tablet of the turning heart.

Until the Sun blazes in noontide flame,
Your Shadow walks beside me—
a shade of Essence, ever near,
where distance was a dream of two.

The wind breathes Hu, the sun declares Ana,
as thought of You ascends
the heart's own mi‘rāj—
a quiet fading
into the sea of Being.

With certainty, I testify:
Alhamdulillah—all praise to the One
who shows Himself in cloud and colored arc,
veiling and unveiling, forever close—
even in the mirage
of a separated night.

— February,7,2026