The Lover And The Beloved Are One Poem by Mystic Qalandar

The Lover and the Beloved Are One*

What is it—
A color fading before its time?
A fragrance scattered on the wind,
Dissolving into nothingness?
A beauty dimmed, without its shine?
A fragile light, extinguished?
A melody, bound to strings and wood?
A song, confined within a cage of word?

The true melody
Is the soul's raw cry—
Unspoken,
Sinking deep into pure silence,
A divine whisper in the heart.

And love's true price?
Silver? Gold? Pearl? Gem?
No—
Love is only
The self dissolved
Into the Beloved.

When the whole universe becomes a hall of mirrors,
Reflecting in each glass
The Beloved's face as your own—
Then the cry comes, effortless:
In alley, market, crowd, or quiet cell,
Wherever these eyes turn—
It is You! Only You!

The Beloved is Beauty,
Unveiled through the Lover's eyes.

What worth have you then,
When True Being is He alone—
Behind the veil,
Beyond all veils?

Like Ghalib's Majnun—
Hidden, yet utterly exposed!

What Beauty is this
That refuses to be seen?

It is He
Who chose the cosmos,
Who chose humankind—
To enact the rite of love
With His own Essence!

What Lover is this?
What Beloved—
Whose reality merges into One?

All praise!
The Lover and the Beloved are One!