How Do I Know That I'm Not A Narcissist

I watched the stars and felt no need to shine, Their quiet fire was comfort, not a goal. The sea withdrew—I did not call it mine, Its salt and sorrow asked no claim on my soul. I passed a mirror, let it speak and go, No hunger stirred to clutch my shape in praise. The roses bloomed—I knelt, but did not show My joy for others, nor required their gaze. If love has come, it was not for display, But soft as rain upon a sleeping tree. I shared my bread, then turned and walked away— No witness sought to sanctify the deed in me. I do not crave the center of the room, But shadowed nooks where silence to grows. If I am light, I need no one to know— The dusk will do, the moonlight on my tomb. And if I weep, it's for the world, not me.