You are not broken, not too much—
You are woven light and human touch.
Not the pain, but the steady flame,
That flickers softly beneath your name.

You were never meant to chase or prove,
To earn your worth, to seek or move.
Love is not some far-off place—
It’s written quietly on your face.

I am love, both brave and kind.
I leave no part of me behind.

You are love in how you breathe,
In how you stay, in how you leave.
In how you cry when no one sees,
And whisper truths upon your knees.

Not because of what you do—
But simply for the being you.
You are love that sings and stirs,
That moves like wind through ancient firs.

You are stardust wrapped in skin,
Love’s echo pulsing deep within.
The way your laughter warms the air,
The way you care—oh, how you care.

Let it ripple from your rest,
From quiet moments, from your chest.
Let it bloom through every scar,
You are whole just as you are.

You are love in every phase—
In still reflection, in wild blaze.
You are not the seeking flame—
You are the candle. You are the name.

So come on home, again, and again…
No need to chase, no need to bend.
You are love’s own living thread—
Remember now what soul once said:

“You are love—no more, no less.
A sacred spark in humanness.”
Let that truth begin to rise…
You are love—wild, soft, and wise.