Spring

As the year marches on, the lens tinting the world around me is beginning to shift. Today was the first to truly feel like spring since this unforgiving winter descended upon the Midwest sky, and in the light of that brilliant sun I, for the first time in so long, felt the fire in my veins which I have for so many months longed to feel. The unquenchable fire of youth, that brilliant and awful catalyst of the need to live. That which at the worst of times smolders quietly away, stuck in limbo between dream, memory, and distant reality, but at the best of times rages radiant and blinding in the eyes of the artist, the singer, the poet; all the youths who recklessly seek to change and experience all the world has to offer, who want to live, live, live so vividly and passionately that whatever god may exist might only envy them in their raw and splendid and untainted thirst for creation and destruction and life, oh god life and living and all it entails. They drink it as water as they drink their whiskeys and beers to maybe dampen that flawless and unquenchable torrent that floods through their veins. I saw a spark, a hint of that fire today, and felt it as one feels love and joy and all that is great, and I cannot wait, oh I cannot wait, for that flame to wholly and completely consume me.