[00:15.870]Nothing asks to be seen.
[00:18.480]It just moves— slow, certain, alive.
[00:22.890]Then something shifts.
[00:24.630]A current, rising.
[00:26.610]Like something remembering how to breathe.
[00:46.410]It doesn’ t come from heaven.
[00:50.340]It grows inside the moment.
[00:54.720]Every beat becomes another form of yes.
[01:02.880]God found herself by creating.
[01:05.460]Not a sentence.
[01:06.660]A motion.
[01:07.770]A way of saying I am
[01:10.830]without words.
[01:59.880]Now it runs quiet again.
[02:48.930]Light rests,
[02:50.910]pulse softens.
[02:52.980]Everything begins,
[02:54.630]again,
[02:55.500]from there.

Nothing asks to be seen.
It just moves— slow, certain, alive.
Then something shifts.
A current, rising.
Like something remembering how to breathe.
It doesn’ t come from heaven.
It grows inside the moment.
Every beat becomes another form of yes.
God found herself by creating.
Not a sentence.
A motion.
A way of saying I am
without words.
Now it runs quiet again.
Light rests,
pulse softens.
Everything begins,
again,
from there.