A Silent Passion
A silent passion ferments in the cellar of your heart. Aged and rife with pressure it expands, seeking to pour over the rim of its vessel. Its garnet liquid, alive with fire, ebbing and pooling in the currents of a growing desire. This passion prays for its release, its celebration, its expression and its increase. Embedded into earth, reaching into the sun, its silent call carried in a subtle perfume that you can scarcely smell. A swell of life, pregnant with creation, aching in the belly of the unrealized. A secret wish carried below, its weight a gravity and a burden your longing must bestow.
Seeking your sacred gem hiding from the light , craving to ingest its sensations. Like water and sand in the cup of your hand, like snow and soil riding the sky, looking through dreams that clouded the eye. A meaning, a feeling, evading your gaze, an impulse, an instinct exalted in primal praise. Hemmed in with an iron thread, sown by an alien culture. Tailored to believe in what forever evades its captor. Sculpted to receive a nameless glory at the forgone conclusion of a forgotten story. To arrive and depart in a grain of time, while decay becomes a poignant subject of the sublime.
~Asa
Tags: spiritual poetry
