The Whisper And The Path Poem by Mystic Qalandar

There is a light inside you—
brighter than a thousand suns,
a song older than time.
Yet you move through the world
as if you are nothing,
as if your breath bears no meaning.

They will tell you:
you are dust,
a fleeting shadow,
an accident of flesh and bone.
They will bind you to their illusions—
wealth, power,
the hollow crowns of ego—
and call it living.

But you—
you who have heard
the faintest echo beneath the noise,
you who have felt the tug
of something deeper—
do not let their blindness
become your own.

The nafs is a tyrant—
a voice of hunger and distraction,
painting the world in fear.
It whispers:
the path is too steep,
the way too veiled,
the truth too far.
It makes you question
the very whisper
that called you first.

But walk—
step by step,
breath by breath,
even when the path is cloaked in shadow.
The Sufi way is not found in grand revelations,
but in the patient turning
of the heart toward the unseen.

Every trial is a polishing.
Every fall, a lesson.
Every moment of surrender—
a breaking of chains.
Do not fear the stillness.
It is there you will hear
what the world has tried to silence.

And if you stop before beginning,
if you let the weight of what if
crush your seeking—
then you have chosen,
not failure,
but a death before dying.
Choose instead to live—
now—
and you will never die.

For the secret is this:
the truth you seek
has already found you.
It waits—
not at the end of the path,
but in every step,
in every breath,
in the stubborn, silent beat of your heart—
the one that never believed
you were meant to be small.