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The Essence of a Passion

Caleb Jenson

Abounding in the air is an ode to natural beauty,

A praise to the majesty of the mountains,

And adoration for the outstretched valleys,

Twirling and whirling through the air

Dancing upon the cords of the soul

Like the fair ballerina, gliding across the stage,

Whispering to the ghost

And consoling the heart,

The trees seem to bow in agreement

As the breathe of life rushes by,

Whistling the tune of a mysterious love.

It is a language of passion,

But spoken as gently as the warmth of the sun's effulgent rays

On a calm spring morning,

Understood tacitly, like the smile which gleams on the ocean's waves,

Grazing past all as it meekly chides the busy mind,

Begging with childlike eyes that the desire to love be obeyed,

Perturbing only the humble and the hopeful,

Ignoring all ungodliness,

Splashing amiably the cheeks of the betrayed with kisses of compassion.

When I find myself in splendor,

And the soul's love tastes so sweet,

Oft times this tender friend I will encounter,

Then my soul be filled with rapture,

And my heart with peace,

It is the joy of life,

And the love of being.