The Awakening

Before there were names,
before there were forms to divide one thing from another,
there was Light.

 

Not a light seen with the eyes,
but a living presence from which all things came.

It did not shine upon the world—
it was the source of it.

 

As this Light moved outward,
it passed through layers of becoming.

Not changing in itself,
but becoming harder to recognize.

 

What was once whole
appeared as fragments.
What was once clear
became subtle.

Until, in the lowest places,
it seemed like only a faint glow—
hidden within the fabric of life itself.

 

It lived within each person.

But the people came to trust only what they

could see with their eyes.

They built their lives on what could be measured and held.

And slowly…they forgot.

They forgot the Source from which they came.
They forgot the unity that once was known.
They forgot the Light—
not because it left,
but because they no longer looked for it.

 

Still, from time to time,
something stirred within them.

A quiet sense…
that there was more.

But the world gave them no language for it,
and so they learned to ignore it.

 

Then one day,
a messenger appeared among them.

He did not come with power.
He did not come to change their world.

He came with stillness.

And when he spoke,
it was as if he addressed something deeper than their thoughts.

“What you seek,” he said,
“has never been absent.”

They questioned him.

“If that is true,” they asked,
“why do we not see it?”

He knelt and gathered a small amount of earth in his hand.

“This,” he said,
“is what you have come to trust.”

Then he opened his hand.

Within it, something shimmered—
faint, but unmistakable.

“The earth does not create this,” he said.
“It only conceals it.”

They were silent.

 

“You have mistaken the covering for your nature,” he continued.
“You believe yourselves to be what you see.”

 

He looked at them gently.

“But what you are… has not changed.”

And then he said:

“You have forgotten who you are.”

Something stirred.

Not in all—but in some.

 

It was not new.
It was a simple remembering.

Awakening to a truth long known,

but never spoken.

 

Some turned away.

But others begin to awaken.

They stopped searching outward,
and began to listen within.

And in that quiet,
the faint glow they had once dismissed
became clear.

Not brighter—
but undeniable.

They saw that it had never left.
Only their awareness had turned away.

And though they continued to walk in the same world,
they no longer believed it was the whole.

For they had remembered—
not something new…

but what had always been.