TheBanyanTree: A Special Request

[alf at io.com]

Where goes passion?

It sneaks away in the night, while we are fast asleep dreaming
of other worlds, exploring other dimensions.

It dies at the hands of thoughtless lovers,
in selfish backrooms where Desire raises her siren song.

It drips slowly onto the carpet, so silently we do not know a leak exists.
Then one day the roof caves in.

It hovers on the edge of our consciousness and mocks our pathetic need for
it, smiling all the while at the power it holds, secretly pleased by our
bondage.

It bolts from our arms, frightened by grim reality.

It stands apart from us and is bemused by our naivete.

It teases the limits of our endurance, our imagination; it surrenders us to
the greater whole wrapped in chains of our own unawareness.

It soars overhead, swooping and diving, dazzling us with the brilliance of
sunlight on its wings.

It paws at our frozen ground, trying to dig a hole in which to bury the
bones of our ignorance.

It swims in the Sea of Possibility, yet never gets wet.

It grows in the deepest parts of us, unobserved and unrecognized.

It comes to us in the Hour of the Wolf, urging us to persevere in the face
of wily and unpredictable odds.

It simmers on the backburner of our love, waiting for us to turn up the flame.

It flies out the window like a frightened bird, flapping its wings and
squawking, and rushes headlong into the banyan tree.

So goes passion.


youngblood   Sun 19 degrees Sagittarius 1998/ Moon in Libra

http://www.io.com/~stargazr/stories.html

	    ~*~
 	~*~alf~*~
~*~@io.com~*~

"I once tried to save a cat whom the dogs had chased up a tree.
Some of us simply prefer our own hell over someone else's good intentions.
I still have the scars to prove it."
                                                                         alice