To Be A Living Threshold

This is not a role you choose.

It's something you become by staying with what doesn't resolve.

By breathing through what others name as silence, and hearing song.

It means listening with your whole body,

rooted in the earth's deep dark,

open to the hush between stars.

It means waiting inside the ache, not asking it to hurry.

Letting the unraveling happen, without rushing to call it the rebirth.

There is wisdom here,

but it doesn't shout.

It hums, low.

It moves like water through stone.

This is the kind of magick that remakes you in small, almost imperceptable ways.

Not all at once, but over time,

breath by breath, truth by truth.

To live this way is not about becoming more.

It's about sinking in.

Letting what's ancient move through you without needing to name it.

You are the place where two darknesses meet,

To listen without needing to battle.

To touch.

To begin again in a language older than words.

Let that be the rhythm you keep.

Let that be the fire you tend.