Vagabond's Waltz

Where does one turn when the joys that once filled one to contentment have gone to leave something to be desired? What remedy is there to be had when the ailment is within the heart?

When once a sufficient rhythm of Life no longer flows so easily, the paths begin to grow unfamiliar and the warmth seems to ebb. How is the course found once again when one is lost within?

The flames of creation have receded to placid embers.
The crashing waves that no towering coastal rocks could tire only simply lap at grains of sand.
The gales of wind that once blew where they would please, the world owning no boundaries that could dare dream to keep them stilled, can now only whisper by in lilting brushes.
The dreams of beyond what confines reality have dulled, reaching no further than what simply lies beyond that shutting door; yet still, just wondering what may be rather than calling out to what can be...

What healer could heal?
What apothecary would concoct a cure?
Where does one seek the light when the skies have clouded?