Categories
Poetry

Gypsy

I see the world,

and I know it has been named

by those who came before me.

Who have I become

(or not become)

because of what they have shown me?

Voices claiming to guide are often sour

to my ears.

The world is alive,

delicate,

beautiful,

when my gypsy heart flies

free.

I see the world.

I name it for myself.

By brookecutler2

Liver of life, lover of everything. 💕

3 replies on “Gypsy”

Aaa this is so sweet and the picture, I’m stealing it. Soon we will be having the festival of Diwali, lights and firecrackers, undoubtedly pollutes but now it has become much reduced, I can’t help but feel nostalgic about when I used to actively take part in the celebrations too without worrying about the side effects. 🖤

Liked by 1 person

Ah, nostalgia is a beautiful thing that runs deep. I understand the pangs of wanting to do what’s right for the environment whilst also enjoying humanity from every angle. I have the same pains about books. I love them so much, but my goodness. My poor trees! Awesome, Shruba. I’ll check out Sasha and Sunshine. Thanks for the recommendation! xx

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