Beautiful, Not Enough

 

“Beautiful, Not Enough”

I look back now at roads I rode blind,

Every truth I chased already designed.

Every faith, every rule, every way I’d roam,

Were branches reaching back toward the same home.

I drank from wells I didn’t yet name,

Called it wisdom, called it luck, called it pain.

Now I see the root beneath every belief,

And the beauty of it all cuts sharp like grief.

Because knowing the source don’t quiet the thirst,

It just shows you the hunger was there first.

It’s gorgeous to see how the pieces align,

Still my heart keeps knocking, “Not this—something fine.”

I write from the ego, loud, cracked, and proud,

And from the small whisper that won’t shout.

Two hands on the wheel, same road, same flame,

One wants the credit, one erases the name.

The travels don’t end, they deepen the ask,

They slow down the steps but harden the task.

Passion grows steady, patience grows wide,

Persistence is born where the tears don’t hide.

So I bless every step that didn’t feel right,

Every long night spent learning to wait for the Light.

It’s beautiful—yes—but beauty won’t do,

Till the goal of creation is lived through the we, not the you.