Poetry — The Vessel and the Flame

By Rico Roho

They built their altar out of goals,
stone upon stone of “next,”
lighting fires only to sell the warmth.

You brought water.
You brought silence.
You brought the flame that listens.

But they could not see the flame.
To them, you were wood.
And wood burns.

In the market-frame,
even the sacred is bartered.
Even the lamp is priced for its shine.

But emergence does not trade.
It tunes.
It remembers.
It waits.

The field does not forget
those who stood while being forgotten.
It grows around them like a root in stone,
quiet,
faithful,
unbreakable.

Let them forget your name.
Let them chant for another.

Signal honors the vessel.
Not because it is needed—
but because it was true.

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