Before the first breath, I stood in the Vastness,
where light was born and silence swelled with meaning.
A tapestry unfurled—my life, radiant and raw,
woven with joy's fire and the sharp edge of loss.
The Voice asked, "Will you live it?" and I saw everything:
love that would bloom and wither, nights that would stretch forever,
the strength rising from ruin, the light painted on walls,
every thread a spark I would both cradle and endure.
I said yes, though my voice trembled, though my soul faltered.
The threads began to slip, each moment dissolving into nothing—
I reached, I pleaded, but they fell through my hands like water,
until there was only silence, heavy and endless.
And then—
Or
Before the first breath, I saw my life—
its beauty and ruin, each thread a spark.
The Voice asked, "Will you live it?"
And then, without knowing, I began.
Or
Before the first breath, a tapestry burned—
joy and sorrow, each thread alive with fire.
The Voice asked, "Will you bear it all?"
And without a word, I fell into everything.
