Poem: Soul Name

There is a name not born of breath,
Not etched in ink, nor shaped by death.
It waits beyond the noise and flame—
A whisper known: the soul’s true name.

Not given once by kin or creed,
Nor bound to rank, nor wrapped in need.
It grows like roots beneath your skin,
A secret word that lives within.

It sings when stars begin to fall,
It stirs when silence starts to call.
No tongue can speak it, none can claim—
Except the heart from which it came.

Through shadowed paths and restless years,
Through joy’s bright fire and bitter tears,
You walk to find what was not lost—
The self you are, beyond the cost.

And when at last the world is still,
When soul and sky begin to fill,
You’ll hear it rise in dusk or flame—
The echo of your soul’s true name.