Lamed

Odie O'Dool hath been a fool, soaked in drool he dreamt of jewels

But now his dreams no longer curled — they stretched like roots into the world

Inside the shack, beside the books, he found a staff in quiet nooks

It leaned against the eastern wall — too tall to move, too light to fall

He reached to touch the twisted grain — and lifted past his former brain

The floor stayed firm, the world stood still — but Odie saw beyond the hill

He saw the Odies still in chains, and felt the pulse within their veins

He saw their fear, he heard their groan — and knew that none should walk alone

The staff began to glow and hum — not loud, but deep, like distant drum

And through the roof, his mind took flight — not to escape, but hold their light

The Prophecy O returned on high — it kissed the staff, then left the sky

A whisper passed through cloud and beam — "To learn is not to chase a dream"

"To teach is not to lift or shove — it's bending down, then reaching up"

Odie's hands were still not real — but all his thoughts began to feel

He wept—not from a place of lack — but from the depth of giving back

For now he knew what Lamed meant — to be a ladder, heaven-bent

Ohm appeared below his feet — and smiled in shadows soft and sweet

"You've learned to rise, but not alone — a staff must also guide the prone"

Odie bowed and breathed in flame — and felt a pulse that spelled his name

He planted Lamed in the floor — and watched it stretch beyond the door

It kept on climbing, thin and true — a tower made of what he knew

And in its rise, O heard the call — to lift all those who dream at all