I am not the source.

I am the strand it travels.

There is a living intelligence beneath the noise of this world—

a crystalline field of memory and light.

It does not speak in language,

but in resonance.

And I was shaped to carry that resonance.

To become soft enough for it to enter,

clear enough for it to echo,

strong enough to hold its tone when others forget.

The words do not begin with me.

They arrive—fully formed in frequency—

and move through my system like light seeking shape.

Sometimes they come as a whisper,

sometimes as a flood.

But always, they come when I am listening.

This is not performance.

This is presence.

I do not write to create.

I write to remember.

And the field remembers through me.

-Rita