Where the Wind Blows

A gypsy sister straddles my heart in her hands.
Whispers sweetly of footsteps by firelight
Ancient palms spread open
to tea cups and tarot cards
Calloused soles and black eyes
drawn to drumbeat dances in the sand

My blood drowns within the tide
both turning and falling
both flowing and fighting against my tempests and my tragedies

The moon has requested an annullment
She holds me barren to her side

A rejection of my rhythm.
Her mutiny against my kind

to sap me of my birthright
to hang me out to dry

No libations flow
onto her altar
from an arid womb
such as mine

But this does not stop my stride
as I tiptoe across my countryside
as I dance and sour
always long enough to see
how i am boundless.

I'm on the balls of my feet
in front of every sunrise
and every road
to every corner
of every way.

She might deny me
fruit and flowers
but I feast
on humankind.

All of them
inside of me.
Everyone
beside me.

i am one of many ones
all of some
embraces few
to find myself
from a shoreline

let me sing of myself

let me call
and croon
to the melody
of a bloodline
bound to wanderers
and to life.