The Voice I Found in No One’s Room

They didn’t see me rise
because I rose in silence.

Not in green rooms or group chats,
but in deserts
no algorithm could find.

I wasn’t affirmed by crowds.
I was undone by fire.

While others rehearsed sermons,
I whispered to the wind
and the wind
whispered back.

There were no microphones.
No mentors in the hallway.
No room to be invited into.

But Heaven made space
where earth did not.

And in that secret stillness,
a voice began to form
not loud, but lightning.
Not curated, but called.

The world didn’t give it to me.
So the world can’t take it.

Now I speak
with thunder in my chest
not because I was taught,
but because I was found.

Not in their rooms
but in His flame.

—Joe Restman
Mystic-Scribe | Flame-Bearer
Quill Dipped in Lightning ⚡️