[short story by ~burning woman~ written by Sha’Tara]
To be alive, to truly be alive, one must become Passion. Passion demands newness each moment. Passion is never satisfied. Passion does not lie in ruts, power squirrel cages nor passively kneel in musty temples to offer incense and empty prayers to silent gods. Passion neither wishes, nor hopes, nor bows to the inevitable. Passion does not sit passively waiting for her Prince Charming – she’s dismissed his advances before he even spoke.
Passion sets bridges on fire as she rushes over and laughs to see them burn. She did not build the bridges; she uses them to gallop across the great canyons of time and space and mind. Then she burns them for she knows she will never return. Passion moves ever forward. Always through it all, never above it or below it. Passion charges, engages, bowls over and rides on.
She licks her wounds when night falls and rests with one eye open, hiding in a cave, log, burrow or abandoned warehouse; or she stands alone under the moon in a snow-covered expanse shimmering with crystal points, giving thanks to the stars over her head. Her terrible voice is heard in the howl of the she-wolf, the hooting of the great horned owl, the laugh of the hyena and if her body trembles with the cold, her heart burns within and her lips form a smile of contentment.
For those who would truly know; who seek and quest; who question and refuse easy answers, their name becomes “Passion.” Their life engages death which engenders new life. They know pain and suffering in time; they know hunger and thirst; they walk and run through the loneliest of places– but their path blends its sorrows and sorrows become joy; the joy of Passion. Thus do they greet the morning light, and thus do they empower themselves to ride on.
Forever across the endless; forever across the timeless; forever across the trackless; daring enough to challenge unborn vistas, uncreated worlds; the labyrinths of chaotic universal gestations. When Passion’s steed comes charging out of the fogs of space and time, the gods withdraw in fear and awe of her power.