And then the sun rises, slow and lethargic, coming up in its arc to grace a forgotten trifle with a singular glittering ray, the smallest of embers burning still in the ashen hearth of your imagination. It is then that your soul begins to reignite. As with any fire, it requires tender care and plumes of smoke, but slowly the tinder catches, then the kindling, and with a sudden rush of wind and explosion of forgotten potential, the fire good and truly catches and all the world appears ablaze with your inner light. Every dark corner is illuminated, every gilded fragment gets new life, and you are thrust back into the fervor of your dreams.
How easy it is to forget. How easy it is to let that fire die out. How quickly what others call life interferes with your destiny. How quickly you forget your once passion, that one thing that got you out of bed in the morning with wide and wondering eyes.
The spark in my soul nearly went out. The fire had receded from the once grand blaze that overtook every vision, to a small, flickering, and faltering little ember. And all in the matter of two months. But, my eyes are reopening, the sleep is being rubbed clean, and the tinder is smoldering again. Soon, my fire will be burning brighter and bigger than before, and inferno that will touch everything in my path. I will return. In time. I will return to what I once was. Creative, intuitive, caring, my heart wide open for everyone to see.
I will return.