Tales of Passion

Some say I am wise beyond my age, ask me about pain, suffering, longing, foolishness, faith, destiny and most of all love. Ask me about any feeling, state of mind, time, place and habit, I will answer. Yet mostly I am asked about love and passion and the only way I can explain is through pain, suffering and longing.
When you have like me learnt about passion, all you can do is tell tales of passion. If you have suffered inhuman pain, unbearable hurts, insults unheard of for an Ideal worth the battle and if you have for centuries watched only seeing you battle being lost, in vain, then you have like me experienced Passion.
If your lifetime has been an eternal, silent, meditated, modelled and brutal battlefield against a force made stronger than you by circumstances and you reap no fruit then my sister, my brother, you know my Passion.
If you are part of those who are like me, then my little tale on love begins for you. When you feel love, for you passion takes over, leaving you at the mercy of fait. Passion strikes love like the tears of God strike the flowers, making them blossom, shine, brighten but as everything that grows too fast or shines too much, it dies faster. You can know passion and love, an enduring love that is yet only because that love is a fight, that love means survival, pain, longing but you cannot you cannot love a love that is happy and joyful simply because it is passionless. Mark this, once passion runs in your blood, whipping your veins to life, shaking your heart so vigorously it is hard to tell whether it still beats or just frantically repeats itself. Once the bitter taste of passion has laid upon your tongue, it is a taste that will haunt you until you get enough of it, impossible. Once defeat of love is in your soul, there is no more happiness through joy, there is only happiness through suffering.
My happiness runs deep, as deep as the wells of our Lemurian ancestors, as deep as the endless universe. It comes from a place that is so pure that it is no longer mere happiness, it is passion. Passion is all encompassing, it is made form a bit of all emotions, with a twist of lessons. With passion, you only feel an emotion by passing the test of the previous one. That is why passion is not an easy affair, no benign knowledge.
So when you have stood alone, with forces mightier and more powerful than the fall of a thousand stars raging around you and worse, within you and you have not flinched, then you’ve lived my Passion.
If today at this moment, a wave stirs within you as you read, if that wave, in a split second, attains the height of all trees and just as fast and as powerfully as it started, it subsides, leaving you overwhelmed, with an empty space, then you are my Passion.
So when I am asked about love, I chose my words differently and enjoy praise for my wisdom, for my tale of passion.

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