Awareness—the Fragrance Of Alast Poem by Mystic Qalandar

God forbid—
that I lose awareness,
for this awareness is the fragrance of Alast:
a chalice hidden in the breath of the First Dawn,
where letters still awaken,
where words are yet unborn.

The ink of the pen is covenant's seal;
the writing—
a secret encased in silence,
a trust upon the soul.

Not reason's trap, but truth's own pact;
and so my joy descends,
a flash of nameless light
fluttering behind my eyelids.

I am free—
unbound by chains,
walking toward the Light of Lights,
where every veil dissolves
into its own reflection.

I am flame,
I am song,
I am also the moth—
circling, bewildered,
dissolved around the candle of Truth.

This rapture, this un-selfing,
is not a qalandar's frenzy,
but the sheer intoxication of love.

In every wave's heartbeat whispers "Hu, "
in every wind's murmur
the Names of the One are sung;
the breath of the universe itself
is bound to a rosary of remembrance.

Yet the path is perilous:
the demon of self fastens like shadow,
fashioning cages,
driving me into sightless chambers,
and under madness' name
seeking to rob me of light.

Then—
no nightingale sings praise,
no forest holds its prayer;
only the monster of the self laughs,
and the groaning of chains
replaces remembrance…
yet still the breath of "Hu" lingers.

—October 1,2025