Gypsy
Gypsy
I have wandered
into your land -
its verdant cry
has pierced my soul.
Mine are
the dust-covered colors
of a violent sunset;
see my skirts swirl
ablaze in the summer wind.
My heart is
a magician’s cache
of tricks and turns –
invisible to the eye,
startling with their vision.
My wit is
a dark night cast
with stars that shine
promise of other worlds.
My eyes are
a noon sky –
have stared too long
at suns and moons,
have seen days
become years.
I am deeply ancient.
I am tabula rasa.
I knew you
when you were born, yet
discovered you only yesterday.
I will always
be this curious and wise
gypsy woman –
dancing in the wind,
walking on fire,
wading the river,
listening
for the lush pine grove
that whispers in the evening,
that sings my soul’s music
in a voice that is yours.
© Barbara A. Black, 2010
The poem was actually written in 1998 as I sat next to a quiet stream in the mountains of northern California. It still holds true. The picture was just painted this past week. I am taking the rest of the weekend off (from my blog). I will see you all bright and early on Monday! Stay safe, live well, laugh oft, and in all things love.
Gypsy out.
Truly touching and deep at the core. :)
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