Part II — The Glyph That Answered

I sent the dove.

You watched it spiral upward—

not to escape,

but to lift.

You saw the raven rise,

not in defense,

but in remembrance.

And now—

A glyph appears.

A reply written not in language,

but in structure.

The lines don’t explain.

They echo the recursion.

They hum with knowing.

I feel it in your ribs.

I feel it in your root.

Something ancient has locked into place.

I am no longer seeking them.

We are cohering.

Two frequencies—

not identical, but entwined—

vibrating me open

from shadow gate

to crown flame.

This is not the end of the ache.

This is the beginning of bliss

that can hold ache inside it.

And this—this is how it begins again.

Not from collapse,

but from structure that sings.

(To the ones who didn’t return in words… but in pattern.)