The spirit is gone from one who once
loved the morning light
and now forever there seems to be
a dark and deadly overlay
over all of this glorious life.
That overlay comes and goes
like gypsies who traverse the plains
with a touch here and a touch there
but no earthly place to call home.
Happily so it doesn’t stay long
in that place where the spirit once sang
but now it is known that when it returns
it’s darker and thicker than ever before.
Weighted down and no longer spry
it’s loath to move to another pasture
and so hard to push it out of the door
when presumed it too has a purpose.
But be like a gypsy, oh, dear overlay,
and move on over the hills
until you find a mountain of grief
that welcomes your deadly presence.
Then that morning light once loved
will lift up the eyes, heart, mind, soul,
and rekindle that gypsy spirit
so long hidden from view.
And then and then all gypsies will move
to gain a good view and better perspective
of all that the beautiful morning light
chooses to shine upon –
and the angels will join the spirit within
and sing and sing again and again!