Something Stirs

This poem came like a dream half-remembered, lingering at the edge of waking; a visitation from a realm that speaks not in words, but in symbols: the wizard, the song, the dolphins, the stirring breeze. Each image arrives as both question and key.

The wizard is the part of us that watches in wonder, the ancient witness, scanning the shifting sands of time for patterns long forgotten. He seeks to understand what can never be solved by thought: why love returns in familiar forms, why the wind whispers names he cannot recall, why she, the muse, the priestess, the eternal companion, sits beside him through every incarnation. Her presence is not explanation, but invocation. Through her, something deep begins to stir.

The stirring is remembrance, not of the past, but of origin. It is the ache of recognition that love is the thread weaving through lifetimes, calling us to awaken through beauty, music, and ache. When she sings, the melody does not just soothe; it unravels. It finds the knots of old pain and pries them open, letting the light enter where shadow once dwelled.

The breeze, the birds, the dolphins, all are emissaries of movement between worlds. The dolphins especially are gatekeepers of joy, guardians of the portals that shimmer between dimensions. Their appearance signals play, but also profound awakening: they swim through mirror seas, waters that reflect both heaven and earth, reminding the wizard that the two are one.

The refrain “And something stirs…” is both heartbeat and prophecy. It tells us the transformation is gentle, unseen, inevitable; the soul’s tide turning toward its source. The poem is not about an answer found, but about the quiet shift that precedes revelation, the moment before memory floods in, when breath catches and time pauses.

It is the hush before the song begins anew.