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?