She’s just one pair of shoes away from being a gypsy
because that’s just the way she is.
She moves, keeps on moving, in her body, in her life.
Actually, that’s what I like most about her,
and that’s what I hate about her.
I love the sunlight on her skin,
and how the wind plays with her hair,
I am grateful because he taught me how this is done.
This time.., her hair is jet black,
having the sheen of raven’s wings.
Are they gypsies too?
I imagine so, because they are so ‘here’ when they’re here.
Oft in bands, uncountable, sometimes as a sole spirit:
appearing to speak to me of mysteries and things unseen.
She’s just one pair of shoes away from being a gypsy,
one dance away from being gone, again.
What’s interesting is…, when she does return,
like a warm breeze in times too cool for comfort,
she is completely different.
I only can recognize her by her eyes.
I’m not saying by color and shape but only by the soul that lies within.
When we are together, I cherish the honey,
the sweetness of our now and I well know the sting as things die.
There are times I think she very well may be the devil in disguise,
returning to torture my heart again and again,
but I gain…, I grow from our encounters
Just one pair of shoes away from being a gypsy.
Maybe I can learn from her way of being, embrace it as mine own.
Yes…, its time to learn this lesson too,
to be free from the torment of waiting for her return.
This is for the lost and the lonely so I’ll no longer be counted amongst them.
It is time to dance to tunes unheard and gather travel dust on my shoes
til it falls to the ground like rain.
I just got a new pair of shoes today and I’m gonna dance to the horizon.
I feel that wandering spirit in the air,
no…, a warm breeze in times too cool for comfort.
The winds of change.
I believe I’ll be leavin’ now.