Verily, With The Hardship Comes Ease Poem by Mystic Qalandar

In every ache,
in every hidden thorn,
I laid my soul
upon the secret pulse—
the unseen current,
the sovereign Breath
of the Everlasting King.

"Verily, with hardship comes ease."
So rose the dawn of His promise,
light unfurling from shadow.
His mercy—silent, unseen—
clothed me as a mantle,
freed me as a breeze.

In the gulf of sorrow,
when the night devoured all sound,
a murmur stirred within:
"Surely, Allah is with the patient."

Brothers departed,
the veil descended thick;
yet through the shroud
His Hand reached forth:
"Glad tidings to the steadfast."
Peace did not desert me—
it rested, it abided,
diffusing like fragrance
upon still air.

I longed for a love
too vast for the vessels of this world.
My soul cried out,
wounded, unseen, undone.
And lo, the verse descended:
"No soul shall be burdened
beyond what it can bear."
So when my weeping overflowed,
the Divine was already there.

And when I faltered,
when I strayed,
when solitude pressed upon me,
faith taught me to walk
though the eyes were sealed,
so long as the heart remained open.

The Messenger declared:
"The most sorely tested are the prophets;
and when God loves a people,
He tries them."
Thus the trials
were never scourges,
but measures of love,
stations along a path
paved with His mercy.

Now, looking back through shadows,
I behold with clarity:
how grief bore the seeds of gardens;
how wounds were etched
as creeds upon my soul.

And in the furnace of sorrow,
I found Him nearer still.

"Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji‘un."
To Him we belong,
and to Him—
we return.

—September 8,2025