Prayer for Passion

In some,
the senses are filled
to the full,
with spirit.

The sparkle comes from the depths
gifting with passion
and generosity
and a dreaming
of the most stirring, daring kind.

Others seem to withhold,
sucking inward
breath and colour
from their extremities,
look pallid,
rub hands,
rug their bodies,
seeking and rejecting
light and warmth,
absorbing a little,
then removing it from their lips,
eyes,
skin,
into the bottomless pit
in the soul,
leaving body and spirit
bereft,
wracked with numbness.

They live in a state of shock,
rarely laughing
or even smiling in that shiny,
full sort of way,
or playing
or weeping.
They hear the music
correctly,
distantly,
but not resonating
or dancing
to the beat
of that most powerful
rhythm
that flings stars in space
and ignites love
in a child's eye,
and ripples across lakes
under a full moon
scattering
a kind of fire
in the most startling
of ways.