He was and hence, in time, there was.
What was, had been thus, and was not to change. He awoke, arose, opened his eyes, and there was. He saw, came into motion, did, stood. He then dressed, ate, and left towards and into the looming nothingness that awaited without beckoning. He passed by unidentifiable streets and past houses, buildings, places, objects that defied reckoning and vanished into a mere trace of the derelict within memories unremarkable. The sky, the sun, the moon, and the vast firmament idly contemplated the looming nothingness of the possibility of their existence as he slavishly strode across the distance of the world beneath to destinations unknown, as his destiny decreed, for reasons equally unknown. He arrived. He did not discern whence he had come from where he was now, as there was neither now nor after nor before nor anything at all but distant mirages of places remote. Places, buildings, objects that defied reckoning. People and further objects in the places, buildings, and objects that defied reckoning. He waited, but it was not to be. He attended with indifference to duties of no significance and satisfied tasks devoid of meaning. He ate, stood, resumed, and time passed. There was no now and nothing was to be. Later, he left. Once more, he passed by streets shrouded in nothingness and past houses, buildings, places and objects that appeared to but faintly possess any existence at all and perhaps only to those whom would reckon them and perhaps those that did, did themselves but hardly exist. He returned but he was not home. He undressed and with the night his refuge, he slept but did not dream.
He awoke, arose, and all was the same to him, for when there is no now, there is no before and no after, and all that decreed once was to be, thus remained for time immemorial. He once more did hence and did such, left, passed by this and past that, the sky his sole witness unattainable, the looming nothingness vastly resounding with voices silent beyond the pale, as he slavishly strode across the distance of the world beneath to destinations unknown, as his destiny decreed, in darkest trails of darkness. On the ground, there lay a Ẓāhir but he did not regard it. Suddenly, the world changed. Everything was different. He arrived. He could not tell if there was any difference at all between where he had, if at all, originated to then, were there a then, find himself in a somewhere distinct from it. He waited, but it was not to be. He accomplished astutely absolutely nothing at all and nevertheless, his obligations he did fulfil, a contradiction which was not to be considered. He ate, stood, resumed, and time passed. Had he done so before, he would neither remember nor perceive that he did so once more. He waited, but it was not to be. Later, he left. The Ẓāhir was gone. He returned but he was not home. Time passed. He did not dream.
She was and, in time, what had been, was to be. She awoke, arose and dressed. The sun was shining as dawn dawned as though it never had before, bountiful birds sang in metres resplendent with joy and the countenance of splendour. What had been, was to be, and what was now, came to pass, for beginning had ended and ending was unknown. She opened her eyes and came to be as well. The world had changed, everything was different. There was reason to be somewhere but it did not demand urgency. Somewhere was where she was. She was home. She found a mirror and regarded herself. She smiled. She opened the windows, drawing in an abundance of what was pleasing to the senses, and it began to rain as the sun shone warmly. She noticed a young tree stood amidst the courtyard that lay sprawling in the midst of the world outside of the confines of her home, her abode, her shelter. With an air of sudden spontaneity, she decided to leave. She saw, looked, stared, gazed at, and perceived as though she never had before. The looming nothingness faded, beginning regarded itself, and ending was drawn anew. She talked to the trees and shared in the very essence of their being. She closed her eyes and as silence came to speak, she came to see without seeing, to hear without hearing, and as the endless paths emerged unto her, there ceased to be but wonderment and annihilation. She opened her eyes anew and walked, sought without seeking places remote, places of note, beings unseen, and voices in dreams. And as she was stood there amidst the looming nothingness that faded out of inexistence, there was a Ẓāhir on the ground. She regarded it and found it to be a scroll with writing on it. She began to read the writing on it, writing of words sundry but barren that perplexingly cast trails of memories fading and remote into her mind, which wrote: "He was and hence, in time, there was. What was, had been thus, and was not to change. He awoke, arose, opened his eyes, and there was." Suddenly, everything became clear and as night dawned, she cast her eyes towards the sky and spoke:
I saw a star that shone bright
in the night of my days
it ascended in rivers
in rivers of light
in gardens of green
of rayḥān and yasmīn
when moment met moment
and silence reigned all
and all that was once
and all that to be
turned nameless and formless
and formless and free
And then:
Felicity is the calmness of the eye
She later departed, only to return.
