~Gypsy~

Recently, I purchased a book ~Soul Collage~ by Seena B. Frost. I am still studing and working with archetypes and have created my first soul collage card. A part of me is a ~Gypsy~. The idea of wandering has always been a part of me. I feel restless in one spot before too long. If I had lived many years ago I would have chosen to be a ~Gypsy~. This archetype says mystery or being mysterious is wonderful and not something to fear.

I am the one who sits cross - legged at your committee table. I know your passions, they run like river water toward the mouths of blue oceans. I am the one who wears flowing frocks, the color of burgundy wine. Pleated sleeves falling off sunned shoulders. Colorful scraves cover thick, long, wild hair. I remove them at night to dance around fires , celebrating the stars. I am the one who plays the violin. Red cheeked on frosty evenings. Warm breath trying to penetrate the chill. By day I collect notions for making healing potions. Spiders, Frogs, and Serpents do not disturb me. I seek wild herbs - violets, thyme and sage. I string and tie them into bundles, they hang in a corner of my caravan. I am the one who does not laugh at old books, stacked by the day bed for reference, Purple quilt upn it. Over stuffed pillows line the edges. Antique beige lace curtains sweep the small window. Pink geraniums planted in baskets, smelling of wet earth, line the pine board floor. I am the one who watches over old photographs on the wall. Bohemian relatives of long ago. I am the one who wears bracelets of silver, copper and gold. I wear them all at once. Their tingle and tangle my music. I am the one who counts butterflies, in Purple flowered fields on hot summer days. I am the one who reads the waxing and waning moons, And churn butter to the tides. I am the one who walks through villages in the daylight. I feel the laughter of the locals. I don't mind, for under the stars, the laughing, lonely people join me to look for love in the cards, bringing nickels and dimes. I am the one who listens to the voice in our mind saying, it is time to go. New ground holds the mystery. ***copyright March 2005 Patricia Hine - Stewart