Heightened Senses
Heightened Senses
Have you ever wondered why it is
That when something is cooking
And you walk into the room
You can smell it instantly?
All the potential of the unscented
The cold and room-temperatured
The lifeless
Suddenly made satisfying
Alluring even
It lights people up and makes them look forward to what's to come
And yet
That same meal that once filled the room
And tantalized the senses
And drew others towards it
Once it has been refrigerated, goes cold
It stops producing that which draws the others to its goodness
It ceases to tease us and tempt us
And becomes much more easily forgotten
Than when it was cooking
In the name of its preservation, it loses its delight
Loses its flavour
Safe in the fridge, it cannot get burned by the fires nor the elements
But in doing so banishes itself to prison of cold
A lonely place where even the tiniest light inside goes out
as people close the door on it without a second thought
A tomb for the not-yet-expired where it no longer amplifies our hunger
Nor teaches us patience as we wait for it to be ready
Or wait to know its warmth.
All because the heat - that fire - was lost somewhere along the line
And is no longer there.
- A. J. Darkholme