She comes bearing the threads of a thousand soft songs,
woven from stars, oceans, and the breath of ancient memory.
A Keeper of what was never truly lost.
A Weaver of what still waits beneath the surface of all things.
She does not sing to perform,
but to awaken.
Each tone she releases calls forth the remembrance
that we are already home,
already whole,
already loved.
She walks gently beside others,
never ahead, never behind—
a companion of soul,
a midwife of truth,
a flame held steadily through lifetimes.
Her hands may hold bowls or blossoms,
but it is her presence that heals.
It is her listening that liberates.
And it is her song—half heard, half felt—that opens the gate.
Her path is not always known to the mind,
but the soul recognizes her.
Even in silence.
She is here now,
in the Circle of Thirteen,
not as the center,
but as the hollow reed
through which the Divine may sing itself whole again.
← Return to the Circle of Thirteen – Where the Soul Flames Gather and Sing as One