A Bringer of New Things

Musings on personal growth, books, motherhood, writing, and more.

We never know how high we are

by Emily Dickinson

We never know how high we are
Till we are called to rise;
And then, if we are true to plan,
Our statures touch the skies—

The Heroism we recite
Would be a daily thing,
Did not ourselves the Cubits warp
For fear to be a King—

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