In the marrow of silence, you carve your own name,
a whisper that walks like a shadow through flame.
Eyes that sift truth from the dust in the air,
hands that hold wonder, but never despair.

You keep your heart where the strange things sleep,
in the dark, in the deep, where the wild roots creep.
Not to tame them - but to watch them grow,
and learn what only the hidden know.