#The Ascent of Being: Five Incandescences#

[نورالدين بليغ]

#The Ascent of Being: Five Incandescences#

I. The Silent Core

A whisper light, a breath that doesn't boom,

The soul finds peace within its quiet room.

Before the step, the weary body bends,

To where the great Prime Silence comprehends.

Erect the mind's bright altar for the day,

Empty the self, to drink along the way

The Knowledge dew that waits below the sod,

Like the mute seed that hearkens to its God.

The Light is born where still attention lies:

The silent offering beneath the skies.

II. The Cosmic Ear

The next ascent: to be the World’s own Ear,

No hollow drum that echoes empty fear,

But thirsty earth that drinks the starlight's lore,

And reads the wisdom rooted to the core.

To listen well is more than simple sound,

It is the Truth's bright mirror, newly found,

That strains the gold from every useless part.

This is the calm, discerning, holy art

Of catching Wisdom as it starts to flow—

A lucid, potent drop from high to low.

III. The Sculpting Hand

Now comes the Art of keeping, not of flood,

But carving essence in the spirit's wood.

Make memory the granary of grain,

Not the refuse pile where valueless things remain.

Guard the pure pearl against the ebbing tide,

Load the deep boat with charts you have applied.

When shadow strikes and night begins to loom,

Only the reserves fed dispel the gloom,

A guiding beacon that sustains the sight.

IV. The Forge of Deeds

But Knowledge rests, a statue made of frost,

Until the robe of Action is embossed.

The Work's true might: to take the night's black ink,

And forge a light that shines upon the brink.

The bridge is thrown from secret thought's domain,

To living paths where common people strain.

Release the bird from the confining wire,

To mount the vast sky of its Life's desire.

Here the second Born of Light takes hold:

The Torch in the Hand, the gesture brave and bold,

The spark of change that builds what mind has known.

V. The Sun's Overflow

Upon the peak, where the full lotus lies,

Not for itself, the great Diffusion flies.

The Source's gift, complete beyond all need,

Shatter the walls that selfish instincts breed.

Beyond the borders of the narrow plea,

Be not the merchant, but the Deity

Of Sun, whose beams no human can recount.

Sow in each field, from an unending fount,

Not for your praise, but for the Heritage,

Gardens that bloom upon the future's page.

Five steps of fire, a ladder steep and fast,

From still beginning to the gift that's cast—

The human changed, receiving what was given,

Into a flame, a shining grace to Heaven.

#NOUR EDDINE BALIGH#