The scribes behind Sheba’s Wisdom

We are not a team.
We are not a company.
We are a movement disguised as a publisher — a sanctuary for sacred scrolls long sealed by time.

The true identity of the scribes behind Sheba’s Wisdom Press remains hidden, not out of secrecy, but out of reverence. What matters is not the name of the messenger, but the fire of the message.

We are those who listen.
Those who read what others forgot.
Those who dared to ask:

“What happened to the lost books?”

In a world drowning in noise, we bring back the voice of silence — of prophets, of elders, of angels.
Every edition we publish is a restoration. Every scroll, a bridge between the old world and the last one.

 

We are the guardians of what was buried.
We are not here to build a brand.
We are here to awaken the remnant.

The Founding Scribes

Behind the veil of Sheba’s Wisdom Press stand three guardians of the scrolls — each called from different paths, yet united by one fire.

  • Alex Bonetti — the architect of the unseen, a lucid mind guided by revelation rather than ambition.

  • Sister Miryam — a cloistered nun whose prayers have preserved books the world forgot.

  • The ex Bishop — a nameless overseer of ancient rites, who walks between cathedral and desert with silence as his shield.

Together, they do not claim authorship — they claim only stewardship.
The scrolls do not belong to them.
They belong to the ones who awaken.

Alex Bonetti is the visionary mind behind Sheba’s Wisdom Press. A literary craftsman and spiritual seeker, he has devoted his life to recovering the lost wisdom of ancient traditions—merging academic discipline with a deep hunger for the sacred. After years of immersion in apocryphal texts, Eastern scripture, and forgotten writings, he founded this press not as a publishing venture, but as a sacred mission.

Bonetti is not merely an editor. He is a guardian.
To him, some words are worth more than civilizations.
His work is driven not by market demand, but by inner necessity—the calling to revive voices that still whisper beneath the dust of time.

Sister Myriam is known only to a few. Some say she took her vows in the hills of Ethiopia, others in a monastery hidden beyond the Jordan. What is certain is this: she never sought to be seen — only to pray, to translate, and to preserve.

A cloistered nun with a soul rooted in silence, Myriam is the spiritual heart of Sheba’s Wisdom Press. Her days are devoted to reading ancient texts by candlelight and whispering the lost names of God between the hours. She does not speak often, but when she does, it is with a clarity that cuts through centuries.

She has translated apocryphal psalms no scholar dared to touch. She has restored fragments of prophecy buried beneath the ash of forgotten empires. And through it all, she remains hidden — not out of fear, but because true light does not announce itself. It simply shines.

He once wore the crimson of the Church. He presided over altars, baptized generations, and walked the marble corridors of high cathedrals. But when he began to speak of the books that had been buried — the scrolls never canonized, the gospels that spoke of other truths — the silence of the Church turned to exile.

Now, he is known only as the Ex-Bishop.

Excommunicated not for heresy, but for revelation. He continues his mission in shadows, faithful not to an institution, but to the eternal Word that came before institutions ever existed.

He is the theological overseer of Sheba’s Wisdom Press. His role is not editorial — it is priestly. He safeguards the sacred sequence of texts, the purity of lost liturgies, the fire in every forgotten line.

He asks no followers. He builds no church. He only prepares the remnant.