Passion…waking the sleeping dragon.

Passion. The very word stirs the embers of inner fires. Yet to fan those fires and ignite the blaze of my creativity is not as simple as the utterance of a word.

A force moves within me that surges in my belly, nausea precludes the expression and yet I seem unable to fixate on the one thing I know will move this fire that holds itself up in my belly. It yanks at me like a dragon, breath hot and seering. It leaps up into my chest and stirs the pangs of my heart. I don’t know what will happen when it finally finds it’s way into the tunnels of my expression. My mind can’t wrap around it, no vision, no map seems to lie within the walls of my domains.

Is it passion that lies beneath the heat?

Might I be awakening the sleeping dragon within?

I’m called to stop and visit the emotional well that has been my partner since birth. It doesn’t seem to be a place that I feel welcomed. And yet…here it lingers as a bounty, a magnitude of healing force.

The guard at the door, placed long ago in times  forgotten fights against the entrance, seemingly to the death.