All the world evolves about the sun. The world will have it seasons and it can be cold and cruel. It can be warm, and full of promise of blossoms and awaking. The rose to become full and expressing it’s beauty. The heat and renewal of life as a pattern of eternity will see the strength of new life taking it’s steps to becoming apart of the wonder of life. And the metamorphosis of the cycle waning, and the ebb into harvest. Each of us moved by the seasons, the core whisper that calls to us, that speaks our names.
It is the passion of life, the passion of love, the passion of growth that commands us. That time will march on as precise as a military squadron, and passion of duty and the experience of wonder that makes a child’s eyes wide, and the old smile with images of passions long gone.
It is passion that makes our feet move to the object of affection, the heart to beat so fast that you cannot breathe. It makes our skin clammy and sensitive to our environment. Our eyes respond to the sight of passion, relentless in maintaining the image for eternity.
Passion makes lovers do almost anything. The seasons of passion as in nature, will too, roll along, everything has a season, and a season for everything.
For some, the summer of passion will last for untold kisses, caresses and intertwining of two. For some, they say this is the best season.
Some will favour the spring of passion, the newness of love, the dawn of the new day sun, the dew on petals, so fragrant.
As in all things, the season of passion will fade, and the leaves will fall, and wither. The passion of passion will slip away, and find shelter in places untouchable.
Passion will find itself exhausted and starved. In the winter, it will withdrawal, and feel the chill, as it is held in place. Buried under the freezing snow, it has life still, life we cannot see. It is the way of passion, you see, that it will wait like the buds of a flower, beneath the cold, it knows all the passion of all it’s seasons, and will need the time of loneliness to reflect. Passion will await the heat of the sun of a new passion. And it will survive until the promise of passion new, when it will reach out and find the season to bloom again.
Passion, love, and all things good, you see, cannot be eternally held for just one. Sometimes the season of passion can be sustained by endless love. Those who are lucky to have such passion, are meant for it. The rest, will have many seasons. Blossoms that will find life, add to the bouquet of flowers. Most of us will have passion of summer, only if we acknowledge that winter is a season as well. That while we feel lost, alone, and without hope, just remember, you are a bud, and if willing to wait out the winter season, if you are open, you will arise and you will have a season of summer. A season of passion and love will be there for us all.
You will have the sun, and all that it brings, in the season of summer. The season of passion. You will love. And be loved. That is what the sun brings in the season of spring.
We all move to the beat of the heart of the seasons, and will evolve around the sun, because, the world will always spin, and seasons will always change. As we must, for passion and for love.