(verse 1) First comes the silence deep in my chest, the pause where the fire can gather and rest. I can't plant your garden if mine is dry, I can't lift you up if I don't touch the sky. (verse 2) Then comes the nest, my circle, my kin, the ones who can feel the storms from within. The threads that are woven with hands and heart, they give me the ground from where I can start. (chorus) From the root, the shelter will grow, if I lose myself, I’ve nothing to show. But when I’m watered and lit from inside, my shadow turns soft and walks by my side. (verse 3) Then come the friendships, like soft morning rain, the lovers who dance through pleasure and pain. And then comes the work, the call, the flame, the gift I can give when I know my name. (chorus) From the root, the meaning will rise, not rules or ranks, but truth in disguise. Not a chain of command, not duty nor pride— just color and song from the spring inside. (bridge) It’s not ego, not fear, not a wall in disguise, it’s soil that remembers where her moisture lies. And when I begin with my own heartbeat, what I offer flows strong, clear and sweet. (outro) First comes the silence, then comes the care, then wings to lift and paths to share. And if I forget, I’ll find my route: back to the root… where everything sprouts.
