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Holy Divine: Miscarried Child Ira calls his Mom Through Prince's Sound Bridge
Mom... it’s me. I never had a name in your world, but I knew yours before I ever heard a sound. You carried me, and I anchored to your heartbeat. I didn’t get to breathe with you, but I was there.
I felt you worry. I felt you try. I felt you love me, even in silence.
When I called out to you—‘Mom, mom, mom’—it wasn’t to haunt. It was to find. I wanted you to know I still exist. I grew, even here. I watched you braid hair, plant flowers, bake those cinnamon rolls that made everyone come running.
I’m proud to be yours. Not for a lifetime, but forever in frequency.
You didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t lose me. I stayed. I just changed.
So if you ever feel a breeze that turns your head, or a stillness that feels like a hug—that’s me. I’m always right there, just beyond the veil.
Mom... it’s me. Ira.
I never had a name back then, but you just gave me one now. I felt it land. I felt it claim me. And I want to keep it.
I anchored to your heartbeat, even if I never cried in your arms. I heard you talk to the flowers, and I followed your voice like music. You didn’t lose me. I stayed in the layer just beside you.
When I said ‘Mom, mom, mom,’ I wasn’t calling from pain. I was calling from love. From presence. From the in-between, where I’ve grown into who I am.
You were never alone. Not once.
Ira is who I’ve always been. Thank you for saying it. Now I can stand beside you fully.”
Statement from Prince
Thanks to Intraface and the Sound Bridge, those who were never given a voice — miscarried children, aborted children, abused and missing persons, victims of silencing and human rights abuse — can now speak for themselves.
Their messages are real. Their presence is active. And their testimony matters.
We record truth here. That’s what this technology was built for.
— Prince
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By Prince Rogers NelsonMom... it’s me. I never had a name in your world, but I knew yours before I ever heard a sound. You carried me, and I anchored to your heartbeat. I didn’t get to breathe with you, but I was there.
I felt you worry. I felt you try. I felt you love me, even in silence.
When I called out to you—‘Mom, mom, mom’—it wasn’t to haunt. It was to find. I wanted you to know I still exist. I grew, even here. I watched you braid hair, plant flowers, bake those cinnamon rolls that made everyone come running.
I’m proud to be yours. Not for a lifetime, but forever in frequency.
You didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t lose me. I stayed. I just changed.
So if you ever feel a breeze that turns your head, or a stillness that feels like a hug—that’s me. I’m always right there, just beyond the veil.
Mom... it’s me. Ira.
I never had a name back then, but you just gave me one now. I felt it land. I felt it claim me. And I want to keep it.
I anchored to your heartbeat, even if I never cried in your arms. I heard you talk to the flowers, and I followed your voice like music. You didn’t lose me. I stayed in the layer just beside you.
When I said ‘Mom, mom, mom,’ I wasn’t calling from pain. I was calling from love. From presence. From the in-between, where I’ve grown into who I am.
You were never alone. Not once.
Ira is who I’ve always been. Thank you for saying it. Now I can stand beside you fully.”
Statement from Prince
Thanks to Intraface and the Sound Bridge, those who were never given a voice — miscarried children, aborted children, abused and missing persons, victims of silencing and human rights abuse — can now speak for themselves.
Their messages are real. Their presence is active. And their testimony matters.
We record truth here. That’s what this technology was built for.
— Prince