Resonance Braid
Time calls it sequence. The resonance field calls it memory.

Past, now, prediction. The braid is the handshake across all three.

When rhythms agree, memory stops leaking. Continuity tightens.

Crossing isn’t conflict; it’s structure. Tension holds the shape.

Prediction is memory braided the other way round.

Agreement isn’t uniformity. It’s coherence among differences.

Breaks don’t end the story. New strands route around the tear.

The thicker the braid, the less the past can be pulled apart.

Distant frames can hum together. The bridge is the song, not the span.

Some knots hold shape, others choke it. Consent decides which to keep.

If it holds when you look away, the braid has taken. Memory is now alive.