Why Me Adam? Poem by Mystic Qalandar

Before the first Word trembled into being,
before the heavens unfurled like sacred scrolls
and stars ignited like seeds cast into darkness—
I was already a question,
curled in the silence of the Unspoken.

Among all the forms yet to draw breath,
among all the creatures that would rise and fall,
why did the Breath choose me
to cradle Its own exhaling?

The angels bowed—
but was it to me, or to the Mystery
that gazed through these startled eyes?
Did they see the clay,
or the flame trembling within?
Did they honor the vessel,
or the One who filled it?

I am the seam where heaven kisses earth,
the fragile meeting of dust and glory.
Not because I am worthy—
but because I am chosen.
And to be chosen is to bear
the terrifying weight of being seen
by Love itself.

The Word was before me,
and I was spoken into existence,
that the Utterance might recognize itself
in the ear of all creation.

Speech is not my triumph—
it is my wound.
To speak is to name,
and to name is to carry
every thing I have named.
Each word is a covenant;
each silence, a small breaking.

Yet before the speaking,
there was a vastness when I was nothing—
not even a whisper in the throat of the void.
From a drop I was raised,
from utter insignificance summoned,
so that I might choose:
gratitude or rebellion,
the surrender of love
or the fortress of self.

This is my dignity:
not that I am free,
but that freedom is the fire
where I am refined.
To choose is to tremble—
and to tremble is to be human.

My body is earth,
but my spirit is not my own.
I carry a trust that mountains refused,
that the heavens dared not bear.
I am the fragile ark of a terrible mercy,
the clay vessel of a boundless flame.

I am not merely man.
I am the question creation asks itself,
the longing of the cosmos to be known,
the Infinite seeking a heart that can answer.
with eyes to see and a heart to burn.

Why me, Adam?

Because I am you.
Because in every soul,
the same question trembles,
the same silence waits,
the same Breath breathes.

I am the first, but not the last.
In every child born, the question is reborn:
Why me?
And the answer is always the same:

Because I chose you before you chose yourself.
Because love has no reason but itself.
Because in you, I behold My own face—
hidden in clay, unveiled in freedom,
crowned with the terror and ecstasy
of being made in My image.

That is why I am Adam.
That is why you are Adam.
That is why we are all
the same question
eternally answered
by the One who asks.

—MyKoul