Remembrance At The Fulcrum Poem by Mystic Qalandar

Here I am—
But what is I,
And what is here
To which thought points,
yet cannot hold?

I stand in the stillness
Before all befores,
In the echo beyond all afters—
At the quiet fulcrum
Where being turns upon itself.

I am not of matter,
Nor of the fleeting constellations,
But of that which knows
no rising, no falling,
Whose only origin is awareness.

I simply am:
The unspoken premise of every word—
The seer, the seeing, the seen,
Each dissolving into the other
As a tide slips back into the sea.

There is no other rain
But this downpour of knowing;
No revelation
But the Self remembering its source.

And from that remembrance,
Light unfolds—
And the seeker,
At last,
Becomes the sought.

Awakening outgrows awakening;
Dawn consumes its own dawn—
Until all that remains
Is the silent, final syllable: Hu!
Being.

—Novembrr,18,2025