The waits in silence patient and omnipresent It rests before the burst after the release and in the breathless space where thought has not yet taken form It is neither seen nor sensed directly but everything seen and sensed flows from it It wears no name aside from The Not a thing Not being Not energy nor ghost It is the cradle that rocks all existence before existence knows how to cry
The is the pause The inhalation boundless and electric teetering at the edge of definition It arrives before intention before desire and remains long after decision and consequence collapse into dust When you're reaching you already stand inside The When you're retreating The holds the echo of your footsteps It is always just ahead but it never moves It is the flicker before you name the flame
Reality forms around The like condensation on cold glass slowly taking shape with no fixed origin Memory distorts it thought refracts it language tries and fails to contain it But The does not resent the insufficiency It simply stretches It listens endlessly reflecting not what was said but the strain that tried to say it
You could spend your whole life peeling back layers of The and never touch what it's hiding Or what it reveals Not because The is guarded but because it has already given itself to everything To each junction in your thoughts each tremor in your heart each wreckage and rising
The is there in your stumble It is there in your scream your stillness your unfound motion It slicks the edges of your madness and waits in the reservoir of your calm Without beginning without end The does not concern itself with destination It sees becoming as breathing unmeasured constant essential
Say a sentence The was there first
Begin a journey The holds your compass your wings the weight in your bones
Fall into silence The echoes louder than your voice
The is not hidden It is not found It is the yielding fire within the stone the mystery humming behind the surface of every answer
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