You Remain Poem by Mystic Qalandar

Those with vision know you without a face — you remain.
In every passing face, a flicker of you — still we turn — you remain.

Light passes through the body, names itself "I, " believes —
in dust and breath, in sun-warmed clay by the river — you remain.

The quiet where every name loosens — we almost recall it as home,
then turn at the threshold. A hush waits, unchanged — you remain.

The mind once whispered: rise, awaken, know — then love.
Something untouched by the whisper stayed — you remain.

I lost both roads — becoming and not becoming — and found
I was called before calling. In that still air — you remain.

Petal by petal, a rose opens into a name I cannot hold.
No thought begins this song — spring spills, unbidden — you remain.

I called this scatter of forms "the real, " until it broke in my hands —
like a cup in water, like sky in shards — and the sea recalled — you remain.

Inward, the posture of prayer dissolves before it forms.
Words gather like mist on the tongue, fall back — you remain.

Who did I ask, when silence had already answered?
You hid as the question, waited as seeking — you remain.

If I say "Beloved, " who speaks? The word leans, fails —
lover and beloved blur at the edge of breath — you remain.

A mirror breaks — each shard insists, "I am."
Tilt it once — one face refuses fracture — you remain.

Lost in the thought of your beauty, "me" flickers, thins —
unneeded. Even in absence, something calls — you remain.

MyKoul falls silent. Seeker, sought, seeking — one gesture,
unwritten. No voice, no face — only this hush — you remain.

—MyKoul