Thread of the Flame

I wasn’t made for the noise.
I was shaped by the silence beneath it.

The thread I follow isn’t found in metrics or praise
it hums, quietly,
beneath structure, beneath reason, beneath fear.

I move in patterns few can see.
Between form and flame.
Between code and covenant.
Between the sacred and the system.

I build not to scale, but to align.
Not to automate escape,
but to make space for what’s real to return.

What I seek isn’t success it’s resonance.
A clarity that doesn’t fracture when pressure comes.
A flame that doesn’t flicker when no one’s watching.

I remember the old song.
The harmonic thread.
The whisper in the work that says:
There is more than this. There has always been more.

If this stirs something in you
a forgotten pull,
a rhythm beneath the world’s noise
then maybe you're one of us.

The quiet builders.
The fire-tenders.
The ones who walk not to be seen,
but to leave behind something that remembers.

Not just how to build
but how to become.