The sun has risen in the heart,
not of gold, nor flame,
but of a vow unspoken.

I saw the Cross—not carved,
but shimmering within,
where silence kneels before light.

God has cast the first dice of Heaven,
and stars hold their breath in awe—
for mercy has learned the rules of reason.

Yet still you wander,
eyes turned from dawn,
asking nothing,
offering no hand to love’s labor.

If truth already burns within the light,
why dwell in shadow’s sleep?
If love already blooms in silence,
why fear its name?

Ask—and you return.
Believe—and you are home.