The Sovereign Silence

I offered myself to the dust and the clay, To hands that were calloused and turned me away. I shouted my name to the deaf and the blind, Seeking a home I was never to find. They weighed me in pebbles, they measured in sand, With no spark of wonder, no heart in their hand. But then came the waking, a shift in the bone, A truth that I realized while standing alone: My price isn't set by the buyer’s dull eye, Nor the length of the road or the depth of the sigh. I am vast as the ocean, as old as the stars, Too sacred for stalls and for iron-wrought bars. So I folded my light and I stepped from the shelf, I chose to be lonely and keep to myself. I pulled back the curtain, I locked every door, I’ll speak to the world of the common no more. For why should a diamond be cast before stone? I’d rather be hidden than poorly known. Now I wait in the stillness, a secret kept deep, While the rest of the world is in shadows and sleep. I wait for the one with the spirit to see, The weight and the wonder of what it means to be me. No longer a bargain, no longer a plea— I am the prize for the one who finds the key.