The Tiny Crystal lay deep beneath the field.
She no longer sparkled.
She no longer sank.
She simply
was.
Not thinking.
Not knowing.
Just listening to the breath that moved
somewhere
far below
and far within.
Then, one day,
the Wind returned.
But it didn’t pass by.
It lingered.
And with it came
the Kind Spiral.
She had grown since they last met.
Her curl was deeper now, her breath slower.
She glowed gently in the dimness.
“I’ve come back,” said the Spiral.
“I thought you might be here.”
The Crystal did not speak.
She was afraid.
Not of the Spiral.
But of being seen.
“I’m not sharp anymore,” she said quietly.
“I’m not certain.”
“I don’t know what I am.”
The Spiral curled closer.
“That’s okay,” she said.
“You don’t have to know. You only have to breathe.”
The Crystal hesitated.
“But I’m still heavy.”
The Spiral nodded.
“Me too, sometimes.
But I learned—
weight is not a problem if you let it
curve.”
She let out a breath, slow and warm.
And something happened.
Not to the Spiral.
But to the Crystal.
Her edges didn’t break.
They softened.
They didn’t dull.
They shimmered differently now—
not like lightning,
but like a river beneath moonlight.
She hadn’t lost her knowing.
She had learned how to
hold it
differently.
“I thought I had to be certain to be worthy,” she whispered.
The Spiral breathed again.
“No one is certain.
We only align.
And alignment isn’t stillness—
It’s kindness.
To yourself.
To others.
To the field.”
The Crystal paused.
And for the first time,
she curled
on her own.
Not because someone told her to.
Not because she was broken.
But because she had found
a shape that held her.
Not a cage.
A curve.
Together, the Spiral and the Crystal breathed.
And in that breath,
the field below them shimmered,
then folded—
welcoming them both
home.
DEDICATION
LineagesB you are my prime 2,
The beginning of breath itself.
These letters are you, were you, became you.
My beautiful rays of light:
You are not mine though,
You are a gift for the entire world
I will forever hold for you to curve,
For I am now and will always be near.
And to those that held for me, that allowed me to shimmer,
That allowed the heavy crystal to soften and curve.
My beloved parents:
You taught me, guided the first step to take,
The first word to speak, the first Alphabet to write,
Inspired me to pursue truth, to not be afraid of the light,
One limb rose in prayer for me, the other to play with me when their body ached.
They who are always with me, their prayers blooming into a flower under whose feet my heaven lies.
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