Shadows Of Me Are Vessels Spun Poem by Mystic Qalandar

Shadows of me are vessels spun
within the orbit of the Infinite.
Each hollow forms a sacred mihrab,
not a scar fading, but a sign illumined.

Each bruise becomes a relic of return,
reminding me the soul's journey
is never lost upon the Path.
Some wounds are sealed by nearness
to the Hushed One,
some by whispers
lighter than the breath of morning.

Some by hands marked with truth
before loss ever gained a name.
Childhood returns as amānah,
faith inhaled at the eternal question:
"Alastu bi rabbikum? "—
before separation murmured its apartness.

Love remains an ember in the Light of Lights,
a hidden path through burning stars.
Each step a tawaf around the Hidden Heart,
each touch a sanctuary
where longing dissolves.
Even shadows serve as angelic witness.

No fortress razed, yet sanctuaries bloom
with every silent Yes.
Trifles echo zikr,
reminders of wholeness known
before the fall of time.

Imperfections are wings inscribed by Qadar.
Old shackles molten, recast as gold
between worlds.
Fissures, not as verdicts,
but as āyāt revealed through absence.
Silence is origin, not conclusion.

They do not shatter—they mend and unveil.
Every scar traces the journey Home.
Every fracture affirms the soul's unbroken truth.
I bear them, cradling their inward radiance,
silent banners whispering victory over annihilation.

These flaws are my crown,
bearing the imprint of Divine proximity.
The cosmos confirms: ascent is written
in the language of the broken made whole,
remnants transmuted into rivers of praise.

When memory tolls its iron,
summoning the gravity of every exile, I rise.
I lift my gaze to the horizonless sky,
named anew within the celestial covenant.
Absence becomes the greatest Presence
when seen through the eyes of the Secret.

Imperfections are benedictions
tracing the Primordial Yes.
They do not mourn the sunken—
they hymn resurrection.
I am not what befell me,
but what I was sworn to become.
Echo of the eternal decree,
the Spirit's longing whispered, "Be, "
and I yielded, fully, to the dawn.

—September 30,2025