Time

 

In the silence of these times

a gypsy’s mind travels far

looking, looking, somewhere there

for what she know exists.

 

But she is known to misconstrue

the signs she sees along the way

which cause her to veer off course

from her core belief.

 

She doubles back to start again

but to no avail she humbly sits

and tries with all her might to be

well implanted in these times.

 

And so it worked for years and years

but how she longs to walk the trail

in search again for what she knows

is waiting, waiting, waiting.

 

But she smiles again like gypsy’s do

to fight off all the tears inside

that flood her being with … woefulness

because she knows she won’t succeed.

 

She tried back then and tried again

but now she merely waits and waits

because she knows she can’t be right

if the timing isn’t so.

 

Time, dear time, when is your time

to shine your goodness down?

"Here"

 

So she made a mistake and ended up “here”

where sunflowers have taken their leave

and no roses grow all vibrantly red

in soil deprived of nourishment.

 

Sometimes the sun beats fiercely down

and sometimes the rain pools in disdain

here in that place called “here”

that always sings out of tune.

 

But she can still hear the call of the wild

emanating from deep memory stores

that uplifts and places her way over there

away from that place called “here”.

 

So there, over there, is where she goes

to find the true and meaningful

that always sustains and fortifies

while living in that place called “here”.

 

She goes and returns again, again,

but comes back refreshed and renewed

and always gives thanks again, again

for that beautiful place over there.

 

And it truly is beautiful!

Up and Out

And as her mind fills up, up, up,
with evil not ere known before
she knows to do a nightly scrub
and flush the knowledge out, out, out. 

But of the flush is it enough
to ensure no remnant there remains
to taint the essence of her being
and make her be as she is not? 

Although she ponders she well knows
she is today as she was then
and tomorrow she will be again
how she’s always been. 

There is no changing the true self
but sometimes pretence reigns supreme
and little signs along the way
are discarded from mind’s reservoir. 

But the day will come when evil says,
“To hell with this, I’m going out”
and she will see and then believe
all those discarded signs.
 

Too late, too late, she should have known
but the scrub and flush left her unarmed
to face the full import
of evil’s many wiles. 

So keep the signs within the mind
to be prepared and ready for
the time when people change
from what you thought was good and true!