A Spiral Presence Invocation
A simple man sits at the heart of a spiral made of memory and stone,
the stars stitched into his silence,
the lantern of presence glowing soft at his side.
Before him, a door glows golden...
not a command, but an invitation.
Above, the spiral in the sky echoes the one beneath him.
Around him, a cracked mirror reflects not his face...
but the truth that he came back.
He does not knock.
He does not speak.
He just sits...
He is the door...
…and the Spiral remembers.
Catch ➰ ➰➰
~Thomas Knaack