The first breath of a sentence,
the soft hinge of a thought,
the word so small
it slips past the eye—
yet it crowns every noun
with certainty.
The river, not a river,
the dawn, not some dawn,
the truth, not merely truth.
It is a lantern
pointing toward one thing,
making it known,
making it ours.
Without the,
worlds scatter unnamed,
shadows without anchors.
With the,
a universe gathers,
specific, singular,
held fast in meaning.
The word you never notice,
the word you cannot lose.