Nothing but ever lasts, friends
And, Passions least of all,
That madness when it strikes one
Is a long, eternal, fall.

You walk on air and do so
Blithe of spirit and an uncaring heart
Your mind, the wings,  that help you soar
For, nothing, then, can keep you apart

But, Passions take a million forms
Not all related to lust,
There are some that live a lifetime
And never, ever, rust.

These passions then consume you
In a different sort of way
For, they’re not related to the flesh
But to things you do and say.

It’s a single- minded devotion
To whatever it is that absorbs you,
Whatever it is that gives to your mind
A freedom, and deep solace too.

We wander the world, asking all and sundry 
When, it’s in that Passion that we truly find, 
The meaning and purpose of life for us 
The answer lying within each mind.

Why then are we so critical, folks
So cynical too, at times,
If, for me it’s melody in Poetry
And, for you it’s Prose that rhymes.

Science versus the Arts
Or, Sport  of a different kind,
Keeping busy all the time
Or, always way behind,
We seem to know but always
What is best for all Mankind,
All this is only worldly nonsense
The weakness of the weak Mind.
So,

Let’s only judge the one we know
The only one who might listen, maybe
Ourselves, for no else is so inclined
And, leave the rest to Destiny .

(The author is a prolific poet who has over 30 poetry books to his credit. He can be reached at ashoksawhny06@gmail.com/ www.ashoksawhny.com)