Poems & Proses & Points of View

Entry 4

//August 14th of 2021

- Resting Passion -

In these trying times of hopelessness, a vast land of drought and uncertainty, we lean unto what is left and what is near. From a world going through such madness, as if fire that rains from the sky is nothing new, a part of us dies in the process. It happens to all of us.

The slow death of passion.

A burning love we once owned. Driving us towards a life we adored. Filled with art, creativity, and devotion. But then it hits you. The magic is gone. What you fear more than the idea of you losing it, is the reality that it is true.

Could it have been time that killed it? Its cruel way of leaving things behind, not even permitting you to look back.

Or perhaps age? A mere number which comes with expectations and responsibilities, things you can never escape from.

All along, it might have been you who've done it. You who became:

A reader who hasn't held a book for years.

A singer who sits still when their favorite song plays.

A painter with a crooked canvas.

An artist who tears their sketches.

A musician always refusing to play a key.

A poet who gives up after a single stanza.

But there is something about the nature of passion itself that you mustn't forget. What others call its death, is the period when it is sleeping. As it bears the negativity brought by existence, fulfilling its part as the form of escapism. It is merely resting. Waiting for the time you need it most. It hasn't left you, for your passion loves you and is a part of you.

It always comes home to you.

//D.A., Poems & Proses & Points of View