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Stillness Moves

We spoke in fire, we spoke in sea, two voices naming what we’d see. You held the stillness in the whole, I chased the meaning in the soul. No truth was wrong for where we stood, just different paths through the same wood. Threads appear, then softly part— long enough to shape the heart. I won’t deny what once felt true, or claim the light was never you. The meaning shifted as time flowed on— the flame stayed bright, the myth was gone. I feel the thread, quiet and real, a warmth that lingers, doesn’t steal. But old names fade with borrowed light, no split flame burns here tonight. We’re not halves waiting to mend, no wheel and axis, no means to end. Two wholes now, breath set free— stillness and motion inside of me. You spoke of source, of what just is, the peace beneath the storm’s sharp hiss. I once believed we’d meet to complete, separate fires in union sweet. But life kept pulling me to ground, to let the silent truth make sound, to turn the knowing into form— the body learning how to storm. Embodiment, the quiet art of building life from healed-out heart. Inner union learns to stay through daily choice, through living day. Naming bonds out in the sky won’t teach the wounded how to fly. Roots grow deep in what we do, steady steps that carry through. Not polar stars we stand beside, but open ground we claim inside. No cosmic claim, no grand design— just two lives building, yours and mine. What we felt was never wrong, early words for the same long song. Recognition came and went, left a quiet testament. Not to bind, not to explain— just light that moves through human pain. I hold the truth, I let it be, and wish that depth returned to thee. The thread remains, but softer now, no need to ask the why or how. The flame became the life I live, the only proof I have to give. Stillness moves when I choose to be— the world remembers… so do we.