Gypsy Goddess

You’re a gypsy when it comes to life and love…

what with your crazed desires

your lofty ideas

your wild push and pull ~

your wandering essence knows no rest.

Your feet are forever on the ground,

ensconced in the finery that suits you best,

be it stilettos or sneakers ~

you’ve hopped, skipped and jumped in them all

while you were everywoman to everyone.

And at the same time, your imagination

roamed free in the clouds, conjuring up

all the ways you could sprinkle and share

your magic.

You’ve loved on those who needed you most,

and even those who didn’t deserve you.

You gave until you felt empty,

only to arise from slumber hours later

with a verve and a notion to give more than you did

the day before.

It’s your amiable ambiance,

your nurturing nature that

sprouted grass and flowers, trees and stories,

songs and poetry and novellas

and little ones, little ones…

all around you.

You took care of every single thing while

giving precious little thought to your own sustenance,

because with each morsel you lovingly spooned

into tiny mouths,

a bit of life came from your own tongue ~

you fed each one from your very spirit.


But it’s your turn now.

To nurture your nature, only

you’re lost and confused as to what that is

or what that may look like.

What it may be.

There’s a burning in your belly now

to give to yourself just a tinge

of all that you’ve given to this world,

when one day you look in a mirror

upon the completion of an arduous journey

and see that the joyful gleam that once

flecked your eyes with gold in a certain light

has extinguished.

The color of your eyes is rich still, yet

there’s darkness there.

Far too much for your own liking.

It helps not when the culture cloak of invisibility

is one day draped over your shoulders

without notice

and certainly without your permission.

This, despite the myriad of talents you’ve amassed

over these many years,

is the thanks you get.

You are the expert in doing for all

every minute of every day ~

two hands doing the job of twelve

like you were born to do, and really…

what choice did you have?


It’s desperately unfair, what society deems

unnecessary, as if sacrificing your very self wasn’t enough

in the creation of your dynasty,

your legacy.

That sensation of being

overlooked and underappreciated

scorches the lining of your heart,

because all those years, you gazed longingly to the left

while you were obligated to turn right.

It was all you could do to stay on the path

of least resistance,

when highways and byways, oceans and skies

beckoned you still.



you say to yourself sitting alone in the car

or in the stinging spray of a hot shower

or the quiet of your kitchen

as a dazzling late afternoon sun streams on cold quartz.

Let it out. It will be better.

But tears don’t wash away the turmoil

or reignite the golden glimmer in your eyes.

They just remind you of all the lifting you’ve done.

And when you find a mirror to tap the tears away

it occurs to you that the delicate lines around those eyes

weren’t all cut from laughter, but from the

trials, tribulations, anguish, and

the constantdemands of those

you elevated day after day after day,

providing so religiously to them

at the expense of your very core.


But there’s a time to breathe…

Step away from the mirror, my beauty,

rub all that indifference from your face.

Scrub it clear away, flick it off your fingertips

like the stinging poison it is, and

know this ~

Indecisiveness never looks good on anyone, love,

let alone you.

There’s a fierceness burning within.

You feel it. You know it’s there.

You know what you want and you know

what you’re capable of.

You’ve built your strengths without even

knowing they were there and

you embraced your magnificent flaws to the extent that

you celebrate them now.

They are a glorious part of you.

They are the most perfect part, if truth be told,

because through all of life’s stumbles

you taught yourself that it was perfectly acceptable

to dance in the heat of your own fire, and now

you’re known for pulling everyone right in

with your incessant mirth and vibrant brilliance

burning the retinas and illusions of those

who fall head first for you

their weakness apparent

their prowess laughable,

nowhere near your match.


So dare, you fearless gypsy goddess ~

to feel, to dream, to laugh, to cry, to write, to sing…

Dare to slay your own heart.

Flip that hair, strut that gorgeous strut of yours,

wrap a brightly hued scarf around your wild curls.

Extend those loving arms and throw your head back.

Flaunt the gold hoops and bracelet stacks ~

Let them hear you coming.

Let the sun kiss your freckled shoulders.

Let the moon bless you with renewed breath.

Let the stars infuse you with heightened glory and a

fresh perspective to live your way another day.

Wander your prairies, lose yourself in the nirvana.

Go and steal some souls.

You’re good for it.

Hell, you’re better for it.

Take your prisoners.

You know your heart can hold them all.



“DANCINGSOUL”by lorraine_cormier is licensed under CC0 1.0

Katherine Silke

Katherine Silke has been a writer and stay-at-home mother since 1996, working in local journalism on a part-time and freelance basis while raising her two daughters. Prior to having her children, she taught middle-school English at an alternative school in Spring, Texas. A resident of Florida for the past 20 years, Katherine is a breast cancer survivor who collaborates with her hometown hospital in educating women on breast health and self care. She has just completed her first novel and is working on her second, in addition to dipping her toes in poetry writing.

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