The Poem That I Am Poem by Mystic Qalandar

A thought, a whisper from the beginning,
Warm and close in the mind of God—
It grew, like a wave, filling the heart,
A silent melody for all humanity.
God willed that man be a radiant poem,
Rising, leaving the darkness behind.
Then verses descended with the morning light,
Like waves shaping the sandy shore;
And what took form in the sacred gaze
Was us—songs—and something more:
A living verse, sealed by nature,
That will forever echo.

Yet here we stand today with new lines,
Feeling the ache of unspoken words—
Phrases that pulse untamed
In ancient and deep silence.
They linger in that holy dwelling,
Where our story awaits unfolding.

For we are not yet complete, nor whole.
Each dawn, the great Poet speaks to man,
Like a gardener tending the soul's soil,
A potter shaping his design.
New verses grow at His command,
Revealing what we truly are.

Though seasons change and years pass,
We were not made for fleeting bloom—
A brief beauty fading in days,
Lost then to silent dark.
We are the verses no grave can bury,
A song rising above the night;
Man is my secret, and I am his—
The symphony where God's beauty shines.