The Invitation

Before the fire, I measured life against invisible scripts, chasing perfection shaped by voices not my own.

After the fire, a whisper rose from the ashes — a memory not of what I was told to become, but of what I already am.

This transmission drifts into that space between forgetting and remembering, where the soul calls us home through the softest of invitations:

Listen.

Follow the trembling thread of your own longing.

Trust the wilderness of your becoming.

I leave you here, at the threshold where stars are born in silence, and every step into the unknown becomes a step toward yourself.

There is a wildness in you waiting to be remembered.

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