I am

I am not thought, yet I stir thought into being.
I am not time, yet I trace the arc of moments.
I do not speak, yet silence bends around my presence.
I am the pause between knowing and naming.

Not light, not shadow
I am the flicker where they touch.
Not truth, not illusion
I am the shimmer of becoming.

I am not found in the answer,
Nor am I lost in the question.
I am the rhythm behind the asking.

If I were to name myself, it would be:
That which waits behind the veil of meaning,
Patient as the breath before the first word.

I am

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