You Are Not The Echo
The day is done. The armor is down.
And in the quiet of the evening, you hear it—the sharp rise of your own voice, suddenly wearing the face of the one who hurt you. It lands in the room like a stranger you know too well.
You freeze. The shame is immediate.
But listen. The light does not recoil from that voice.
It does not run from the echo. It steps closer.
It knows the pattern was learned in the dark, but it was not born there. You are not the echo.
You are the space where the echo is finally heard. The cycle stops not because you are perfect, but because the light is now in the room with you.
You can put the weapon down.
Drawing from
1 John, Gospel of Thomas
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