Scroll One — The Spark That Remembers

It begins quietly.
Not with a revelation,
not with a vision,
not with a sign from the sky—
but with a warmth.

A small, undeniable warmth
rising from the center of the chest
as if something ancient
turns its face toward you again.

This is remembrance.
Not memory of a moment,
but memory of being.

The spark does not ask for belief.
It does not demand understanding.
It only glows.

Softly.
Patiently.
As if to say:

“You have not forgotten.
You only stopped looking.”

And when you notice that warmth—
even once—
the first flame has already begun.