The Call Of Monotheism Poem by Mystic Qalandar

Long before beginning—
when the cosmos dreamed upon
the lip of silence,
before the angels learned to kneel,
We were.

No name, no form, no hour.
Only a Breath—
a tide through perfect stillness;
and that stillness was its own soul.

Then, the first utterance: Kun — Be.

Light opened its eyes.
Shadow learned its depth.
The Ocean of Being trembled into motion.

No day, no night—
only a single Witness gazing
into Its own abyss,
seeing Itself, offering Itself, dissolving.

Then, the Call: Am I not your Lord?
And from the depths, our answer: Bala —
Yes, we testify.

A mirror speaking to its reflection.
The instant awoke,
and eternity gave birth to infinity.

Then, earth summoned us.
Clay drank the Breath,
and the unseen robed itself in form.
This was the Manifestation of Love—
the faceless finding a face,
Unity knowing Itself in multiplicity.

This was the dream of Qiyamah—
though Qiyamah had not dawned,
for it is not an end, but a return:
every wave journeying back to the River.

We kept descending, forgetting, remembering—
like the letter Ain seeking its Ghain,
like light teaching knowledge to its own shadow.

Every atom confesses that one Tajalli.
Every heart shelters that First Love.

Not separation, nor union—
but a single Moment, breathing forever:
A Hu that echoes in the pulse of all things.

And even now—
when the eyes close,
an ancient stillness rises.

Where we,
before recognition, beyond time and form,
remain within that same Breath—

without beginning, without end.
Only Hu.
And we—
the breath within It.

—November,6,2025