Where

Where does passion
Come from,
The heart or the head?
Love comes from the heart
But passion I think
From the head.
We are aroused by
What we want to see
In another person
Even if we must be
Blind not to see reality.
Facts do not deter our
Passion for the person,
Common sense is no
Use against our vision
Of what we want.
Passion can morph
Into love or fade
Away with dawn and
Our control of it is
An illusion like passion,
But where does passion
Come from?
From pattern recognition
Which is our quintessential
Talent as humans,
We see a pattern we
Think we recognize
Even if we have to
Hammer a square
Peg into a round hole.
We see a pattern in
Someone that sparks
Our attention and
Instant desire we call
Passion all based on
Some earlier experience
We may not even
Remember.
The sunlight in
Their hair,
The sound of
Their voice,
The outline of
Their body,
Or the scent of them
We react to unawares.
Passion is the hiccup
Of the unconscious id,
Our idiot in us that
Grabs the controls
And leads into dangers
Our conscience self
Watches silently
Baffled by our
Own behavior.
A person’s grasp
Should Their exceed
Their reach or for
What is passion’s
Place if not to urge
Us to do the
Unthinkable,
To dare to reach
Out and touch
Our heart’s
Desire.
Passion is to political
Correctness what common
Sense is to the law,
A stranger in a
Strange land.
Passion comes
From our deepest
Desire to touch
Feel fondle embrace
And poses that
Which calls to us
From our past,
A voice felt
Rather than
Heard.
And most
Strange of all,
Often the object
Of our passion
Is similarly driven
Against all odds
To reciprocate
Allowing all
Restraint to
Vanish
Leaving
Ashes or
Friendship
Or a Phoenix.