Adulation

Each in our manor, encapsulated sphere,
peering outward for self-affirmation.
Acquiring fancy accouterments,
perfumes and graces
that the crowd respond:  Mais Oui!
Our adored one!
Yes, of course, we give audacious audience, smiling.
Noblesse
upon all peasants
knowing we made the grade.
There is a deeper, quieter salvation.
Huddled in a damp, dismal cave,
so familiar this stranger of
clouded face and uncouth manner.
Intently painting intricate, exquisite
mazes and landscapes
upon ancient walls, bringing epiphany
and awe out from innate luminance.
There is that gifted moment
when we can see and adore.
.
.
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