The Station Of Union Poem by Mystic Qalandar

Will that moment ever rise—
When from the dust of earth,
Love's ecstasy takes flight?
Mountains cleave their silent chests,
And rivers stream
With liquid light.

Upon every passerby's lips,
The soul's own song will rise,
Bathed in silence,
Yet speaking all things clear—
This is no dream,
But truth unveiled
In the heart's clear mirror,
Whispered again and again.

Here, lover and beloved
Dress the wind
In colors unseen,
Where midnight's breath
Confides in wandering stars,
And dawn's first ray,
Crowned in love's glory,
Compels the sun to bow.

This is the realm—
Where no man is beast,
No wing is caged;
Where the desert's ache
Dissolves in the ocean's arms,
And every tree
Recites forgotten tales
In trembling leaves.

Here, the edges of 'I' grow faint—
A nameless tide unfolds,
The soul's own rhythm,
The heart's deep drum,
Cradling every laugh,
Carrying every wound.

Time here
Is neither thief nor friend—
But an endless song
That gathers all into its sweep.
Drowned in that music,
We murmur creation's secrets,
And in love's bright river,
We vanish.

This alone is the station of union—
Where every breath
Sings the Infinite,
And every hush
Reveals love's final vow.