luminary

In a realm where stars had never been, a golden ring of light hovered—silent, indifferent.
It offered no warmth, no truths—only existence.
The villagers, in their fear, named it The Question.
Yet one child ascended, alone, not in search of answers, but in acceptance.
She did not speak. She did not plead. She merely stood.
And the flame, without command or reason, bent her shadow toward its glow.
From that moment, others followed—not to solve, but to witness:
That even in silence, meaning persists. And presence, though wordless, transforms.