On Being Enough
The world holds wonders
I have never known,
nor will I ever.
Satisfaction, when much
awaits discovery,
seems impossible.
Littleness walks not
with giants. Poets,
painters, thinkers,
inventors – what right
to coexist with
such as these?
Yet here I am.
How may I count,
as I am,
as one beloved?
Again, You say,
Look here.
It is not in knowing –
but in being known,
that love is found.
And you are known.
By Me.
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