The world rewards appetite.

For youth.
For beauty.
For novelty.

It teaches us
to mistake wanting
for love.

Yet there is something deeper.
A well beneath the river.
A root beneath the blossom.
A cathedral beneath the stone.

And when you see me—
the hidden architecture,
the dark water,
the unfinished places—

and choose to stay,
I think that is the closest thing
to grace I know.

Because attraction
is merely the eye.

But recognition—
recognition is the soul
refusing to leave.