Justice aligns itself with the core,
with Zero.
It is the effort
to draw rebellion home,
mutinous injustice
back toward the center,
or at least
to make it circle the fire.
The circle is how the world
imitates the Absolute,
when substance echoes essence,
when the visible
mimes the invisible,
as every true orbit does.
Without justice,
there would be no orbit.
And without injustice,
there would be no need
for orbit at all.
Justice is born
where injustice appears,
not because they are the same,
but because absence gives measure.
We do not know justice
except through the wound
that calls it forth.
A sea without ripples
hides its depth.
Justice is not a rule.
It is the balance-point of being.
When imbalance enters,
stillness trembles,
and the universe inclines to answer.
That inclination
is what we name justice.
In perfect pause,
before fracture,
justice has no face.
Nothing leans.
Nothing aches.
Nothing asks.
So yes,
the pause holds justice,
not as denial,
but as latency.
Justice in time is restoration.
Justice beyond time is symmetry.
It does not reign in peace.
It rises
only when peace is broken.
Before the One becomes two,
before harm is possible,
before the scale tilts,
there is neither justice nor injustice,
only undivided being,
silent,
complete.
Justice is sacred
not because it is stillness,
but because it is what moves
when stillness
can no longer remain whole.
