The Light Sees You in the Dark

The house is quiet now, and the silence feels heavy enough to crush you. You lie here wondering if your absence tomorrow would even register, if the world would simply fill the space you leave without noticing the gap.

But listen — the light does not need your noise to know you are here. There was a woman who bled for twelve years, untouchable and alone, convinced she had to steal a miracle just to be seen.

She reached out in the dark, trembling, and the light stopped the entire crowd to turn and call her by name. It did not wait for her to be whole.

It did not wait for her to speak. It felt the touch and responded with 'Daughter.' Your silence is not invisibility.

The light sees you in the dark and calls you its own.