Gypsy Heart

She holds a Gypsy heart, contentment not sitting easily with her when she doesn’t feel free. I know a different picture can be painted sometimes; others see only what we want them to see – the face of who we are expected to be. She knows that she appears settled in her ordered, somewhat over scheduled world and in some ways she is. Yet, her gypsy heart will simply not conform; refusing to let her linger long on things that aren’t meant to be.

Salt in the air sand in her hair – the beach is where you will often find her. I see her there, sometimes solo and not often enough enjoying her family, precious times, building memories; it’s where her heart calls her to be. As she celebrates the wonder of popping her perfectly manicured toe into the shoreline of her ‘wisdom years’ it’s more important than ever that she bask in the freedom of being who she really wants to be. Yes! She wants to be free to Be.

And then like a screeched needle over a spinning record, she is jolted back to reality, where the self-imposed boss in her head tells her it is quite indulgent to embrace that gypsy heart. She has responsibilities, there are things she is supposed to do and be. It’s unfair of her not to want to be who others expect her to be. I look at her as she takes a deep breath, and wonder what her decision will be.


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