Passion patiently awaits you to accept its presence.

Passion patiently awaits you to accept its presence

Passion isn’t something you stumble upon in the dark or find in the arms of another,

Nor is it a rush of energy or an intrinsic spot you can place your thumb upon.

Sometimes nameless, sometimes bold-type obvious – passion is quiet.

Soul shifting, small pulses, it awaits until its whisper is heard,

And then it can no longer be ignored. Stifle it, smash it down into an ill-fitting coffin or

drown it in a self-made sea of disillusionment – no lack of oxygen will oust its light.

To deny it is to invite a monosyllabic life, an existence predicated by what if’s, I mights, I once wished buts…

To embrace it is life from the highest peak, the clearest breeze, the stillest waters.

A soul soaring cacophony of creation simply awaiting your ink for its pen.


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