After the Applause

-


I once believed the crowd was home,

that praise could fill the empty space.

I chased the light where bright names shone,

and measured worth by my own fame.

***

I loved the sound of strangers' cheers,

the warmth that came from being seen.

For a while it softened hidden fears,

and painted ordinary days with dreams.

***

I rose like a bird upon the wind,

certain the sky would always stay.

The world seemed open at my feet,

and every door appeared unlocked.

***

I mistook attention for belonging,

and applause for something I had earned.

I thought the light would always find me,

and never wondered how it turned.

***

One day the noise began to fade.

The voices grew a little thin.

The doors that once stood open wide

slowly forgot to let me in.

***

I searched for what I used to be

inside the mirrors of the crowd.

But all I found was loneliness

beneath the mask I wore with pride.

***

The fall was not a single step.

It came like evening after light.

A gradual dimming of the world,

a longer and a colder night.

***

I reached for echoes of applause,

for hands that were no longer there.

Like smoke dissolving in the wind,

they vanished into empty air.

***

And yet the fall became a teacher.

It showed me things success concealed.

The friend who stayed when praise was gone.

The wounds I never thought I'd heal.

***

The quiet strength of ordinary days.

The peace of having less to prove.

The simple grace of being loved

without a reason to be used.

***

I learned that fame is passing weather,

a season moving through the sky.

Beautiful while it chooses to stay,

but never meant to live inside.

***

The mountain does not seek applause.

The ocean does not chase a name.

The sequoia grows strong in silent years,

untroubled by the games of fame.

***

Love people more than their applause.

Keep those who tell you difficult truths.

Stay close to things that do not change:

the earth, the sky, the old, the true.

***

Let fame be weather, not your roots.

Let compliments be passing rain.

Take what is good, then let it go.

Do not become its willing chain.

***

For I have touched the heights of noise

and walked the valleys left behind.

And this is what I learned at last:

the crowd may celebrate your name,

***

but only a few will know your mind.

The world may lift you for a season,

then turn and leave without a sign,

as countless times it has before.

***

So build your life on deeper ground.

Become the person, not the fame.

Because when all the lights go dark,

you still must answer to your name.

***

And when the cheering finally fades,

and every borrowed crown is gone,

the truest wealth is what remains:

***

the hearts that stayed,

the love you gave,

and the peace with which you carry on

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