Resonance

Resonance

Where truth remembers its own sound

I don’t know when it began—

only that something in me

started humming

when the room went still.

Not loud.

Not demanding.

Just a knowing

vibrating beneath thought.

Resonance isn’t agreement.

It’s recognition.

The way a bell answers

another bell

without being touched.

It lives in the body first—

a soft yes behind the ribs,

a pause that feels like home,

a sentence that lands

and doesn’t need defending.

Some truths shout.

Others arrive like breath,

settling where they belong,

undoing the argument

between heart and mind.

I’ve learned to trust

what stays.

What echoes after the noise leaves.

What doesn’t chase certainty

but deepens presence.

Resonance is how the soul says,

this is aligned.

Not because it’s perfect,

but because nothing in me

has to turn away.

And when I listen—

really listen—

I remember:

I was never meant to be convinced.

Only to be in tune.

— Flower InBloom