We spend years wandering,
searching distant galaxies,
asking the stars to tell us who we are,
while entire constellations
sleep quietly beneath our skin.
One evening,
when the world grew still enough to listen,
a small soul stepped into a pool of golden light.
The ancestors gathered there,
not as ghosts,
but as warmth,
as intuition,
as the strange feeling of remembering
something you have never learned.
And they whispered:
You were never meant to become magic.
You were meant to uncover it.
For the rivers knew it.
The wolves knew it.
The moon, with her silver pockets full of secrets,
knew it too.
The spark that forged galaxies
burns in every human heart,
hidden beneath doubt,
beneath fear,
beneath the long forgetting.
So the soul stood quietly
while the lantern above became a sun,
and the golden doorway became a universe,
and every shadow transformed into a teacher.
Then, for one breathtaking moment,
they saw themselves clearly.
Not small.
Not lost.
Not broken.
But ancient.
A living thread
woven through generations of dreamers,
stargazers,
story keepers,
and light carriers.
And the magic they had searched for
across oceans,
across years,
across entire galaxies,
was waiting where it had always been:
inside the sacred wilderness
of being human.
JAM🙏🏻❤️🔥Love&Light
Jam Writes 
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