If the unseen has ever brushed your spirit
like a feather made of night
this invitation is yours
come if your bones feel the stirring
if the old songs rise unbidden
like smoke from forgotten altars
come if the wind calls your name
in syllables no tongue remembers
a welcome to wanderers who read the dark
as if it were scripture
if a tremor of knowing
has ever moved through you
without origin
without name
you are already near
to the ones who carry
the quiet that hums before creation
whose footsteps disturb not the moss
but the dream breathing beneath it
in the hush where worlds overlap
I place a small light
not to summon
not to beckon
only to show
that there is a place
where your depth is understood
if your inner wilderness
has ever answered to the wind
if your dreams walk ahead of you
clearing paths unseen by day
you may enter
quietly
softly
as one who remembers
the oldest language
spoken only by shadows and stars
I offer a clearing
woven of breath and stillness
a space between heartbeats
where those who carry hidden fire
may rest
unmasked
come only if something ancient within you
leans toward this moment
like a tree bending toward moonlight
come only if the stirring you feel
is your own
there is a circle here
drawn not on earth
but in the deep field
where recognition moves
before sight
where breath becomes memory
and memory becomes light
where the unseen gathers
and the known dissolves
it waits without urgency
without expectation
a place for the ones
whose spirits walk slightly ahead
of their footsteps
if your soul feels the soft pull
if the veil thins at your touch
if the dark becomes gentle
as you read these words
step through
the path will meet you
as you meet it
you are welcome
in the way the night welcomes stars
quietly
wholly
without question
you scattered lanterns
you hidden rivers
you keepers of soft fire
come stand with me
where silence meets itself
and remembers
we were never alone
°Woodlights Woudlicht
