The River Comes Close Poem by Mystic Qalandar

The river approaches—
cloaked in absolute stillness,
its light murmuring through stones,
each ripple breathing the secret of creation.

It speaks without voice:
I am you—
and you are the current
that never leaves its Source.

Beneath my feet, the sand awakens,
each grain vibrating
with the first command—Be! —
still trembling in the hidden realm.

The river flows through my being,
and my heart, pilgrim of eternity,
remembers—
I once cast my name
into its silent origin.

It calls again:
Let yourself dissolve,
for every drop returns
to the ocean of the One.

What vanishes in surrender
is reborn in being.
I inhale its breath,
taste the sweetness of annihilation,
and awaken in the radiance of subsistence.

Now there is no distance—
no shore, no crossing,
only the One Tide
calling me by names I have forgotten.

In the silver hush of moonlit grace,
I lay down the weight of form,
and merge once more—
river, path, traveler,
and the Eternal Flow.

—October,26,2025