Passion and Ice

a thought on what passion does to a person

They say passion is a fire,

I have found it to be more like ice.

It starts gliding easily along,

Fun, solid and supporting,

Even forgiving and healing at times.

Yet as always the weather changes,

the ice beneath your feet starts to soften,

You all the while unknowing.

That is till you hear that fateful crack,

You panic as cold and darkness rush to greet you,

your fingers reach and cling to any bit of solidity they can,

helplessly they slide of the wet surface as it forgets you.

Cold, alone, afraid, and trapped,

You succumb to the darkness as you sink in over your head.

This is when that final thought crosses your mind,

how you gave your world to the power of ice,

for the momentary high you knew was fleeting,

and how the seasons change and winter freezes,

 as you see a new pair of skates glide the surface.