The Melody Of The Eternal Breeze Poem by Mystic Qalandar

Let me not grow heedless
of the breath that sings—
the eternal wind,
whispering through sacred groves
within this inner paradise,
rooted deep within myself.

If only I could remember
the world I came from—
a home beyond the veil,
where silence hums with light,
and the air vibrates
with the chorus of a thousand
winged voices.

But how can I recall
the song of the bird of life,
perched upon the cable of my soul,
threading my being
to the unseen transformer,
fed by the current
of the Infinite One?

How could I forget?
We are bathed in holy voltage,
cradled in currents unseen,
born of the eternal station—
a dynamo of sacred fire,
ignited at the will
of the hidden hand.

And when my self, small and trembling,
dares to embrace the burning sun,
a ring of light—shining, wild—
wraps around me, and I wonder:

Is not humanity itself
a vessel of the sun?
Do we not carry its essence—
warmth coiled in our bones,
light asleep in our veins,
awaiting the breath of remembrance
to kindle it into flame?