The Song Of Unity Of Being Poem by Mystic Qalandar

Where love's voice hums—
in silent sound,
A depth unmoved, yet deeply found—
The Prophet stands
With the Book of Peace,
Light spilling into the heart's abyss,
As dawn once graced the cave of Hira.

No chants arise,
No steel is drawn;
Only a hush, a call withdrawn
From the sky within:
'Read, in the name of your Lord,
Who carved you
from the unseen word.'

They walk among us,
Unshackled from dust,
Souls tethered to the Light—
Sacred, unspoken.
They teach without tongue
What the world has forgotten.
They align us in rows of surrender—
Keepers of the Unseen,
Untouched by murmur,
Victors in the greater war.

No blade is lifted,
Yet they hold a tie
That parts the dark
And leads to mercy's sky.

Weapons? None—
Only the print of a hallowed touch,
Pressed where God's silence dwells.

They move with lanterns
through dread's storm,
Toward the Kingdom not of form.

Hearts entwined, we listen
In the dialect of stillness
To the Sovereign who rules
From the throne within the chest.

When faith stands unshaken,
And the shadows kneel,
We merge with the Real—
A soul stirred awake,
A conscience clear,
Joining the ranks of those who see.

Whoever ties their soul to theirs
Hears the Singer's strain—
A hymn of oneness,
a chant of the same:
That all is One—
No slave, no king,
Only a secret whispering.

So, O heart,
Knot yourself to the Lord of Dawn,
To that glow—
Not beyond, but in your core:
Soundless,
Yet blazing evermore.