When The Golden Bells Of Heaven Ring Poem by Mystic Qalandar

I hear the golden bells of heaven ringing,
and in their shimmer my soul knows —
He remembers me.

That trembling of bells is no mere sound;
it is the divine call itself —
a soft, eternal Kun —
awakening my spirit
from the silence of clay
into the music of light.

From that sound, mercy descends like dawn:
when His tenderness touches my wounds,
they turn into radiance.
I am wrapped in the circle of His love,
drifting through an ocean of stillness.

I pray —
may this peace, this sacred hush,
forever rest upon
the horizon of my heart.

From the corners of my heart,
I release the shadows of passion,
letting them flow into the river of repentance —
a river now turned to light,
rising from the depths of my being,
seeking its source
in His divine radiance.

I know — He waits for me,
crowned in gold beside an eternal gate,
where the whisper Ana al-Haqq
dissolves into a silence woven of love.

I yearn for that infinite embrace,
where His primordial gaze
renews the meaning of my existence,
moment by moment.

He calls — Draw near to Me,
and my heart, with invisible wings,
soars toward the heights
of the Muhammadan Light.

Wherever I am — He is with me.
He is within me;
I am immersed in Him.

The love that flows through me is His own,
and the stillness that guards me
is His most secret grace.

—November,1,2025