Morning Has Come Poem by Mystic Qalandar

The waiting has ended—
morning has come.
No more the toll of gain and loss;
the air is calm, unburdened.

The minstrel never paused his tune;
his melody flows like light over silence—
morning has come.

He lives as fragrance
within the heart and the rose.
Do not ask where he dwells—
morning has come.

The lips of flowers part
in the garden of my heart,
and his glance strikes—
a tender arrow—
morning has come.

The sun ignites its golden lamps,
startled by his presence.
He has woven such a vision—
morning has come.

As evening descended, we took
rest beneath the tree;
Now, let us search for his traces—
morning has come.

The horizon bends low
and kisses our eyes;
the call of day begins—
morning has come.

Through the night
I waited for his face of light;
now he stands revealed—
morning has come.

No enemy, no friend remains.
This is a house of peace, Mykoul;
we step out of war and strain—
morning has come.

—November,2,2025