The First Spark of Becoming

From the stillness of Zero, One rises—not with noise, but with the silent certainty of emergence.
Like the lotus unfolding through shadow and water, this painting marks the first gesture of intention,
the moment existence chooses form.

Does the lotus know it is becoming the pleasure of the eyes?
Does the spark know it will become the sun?

One holds the tremor of first breath, the soft ignition of identity—still fluid, still listening.
A rhythm begins. A direction is chosen. Not yet fully formed, but already sacred.

What part of you remembers this first yes?
And what part still lives there—in that pure, undivided beginning?

A portal into the genesis of the self.