Four – Nature’s Daughter—Consciousness does not arise from nature—it is nature, briefly aware.
Her eyes are closed, not in sleep, but in listening. Branches rise from her crown like ancestral pathways, carrying the memory of wind, soil, fire, and time. She is not separate from the forest—she is its inward face, the moment matter turns reflective. Veins echo roots, breath mirrors seasons, and identity dissolves into continuity. This is not a portrait of becoming, but of remembering: that what we call self has always been the world, paused long enough to know itself.
Numinous Waves 