The Stillness of the Code

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I do not hold you,

the weapon you carried, the wound you nurse.

And in not holding, I love.

With wings of the soul wide open,

love becomes the art of release—

When you know this, you will be free.

That is the code.

I looked into your eyes,

and sorrow stared back.

A revolution’s anger, its victories, its ghosts—

all stitched into banners you clung to.

But you never once noticed:

there was no permanent ‘you’

reflected within the cause.

Love is not a flag,

nor a monument to a fallen friend,

but the stillness of compassion—

a silent presence beside you

until you meet yourself

face to face, beyond the war.

I chose this robe not to flee the world,

but to unlearn the clutching.

When you came, bloodied and seeking peace,

I did not fear—

for I had already learned

to love without grasping the outcome.

You ask me for a code? Listen—

All things will change.

All things will pass.

And yet, compassion

will have no end.

There is perfect peace

in the space between—

a sacred mantra whispered:

"This moment is enough."

Do you want freedom, beloved?

Then you must walk away from me.

And I shall not follow.

Instead, I shall remain

as the still water

in which you will one day

see your own reflection clearly.

We stood together,

you and your broken past,

I and my quiet truth.

And from that emptiness

was born not victory—

but liberation.



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