amongst a gypsy

There are a few words for me, that aren't quite me but are becoming me. Transient, vagabond one could say... It takes some time to articulate. I travel about with Gypsy feet, never completely in one place.

~I'll be the girl who sings for my supper... ~

Random shreds of songs of current / lasting intrigue continue to flood over my head. I am finding a common thread to the songs I love the most as of late. That of a free spirit. That free spiritedness that is within just calls and continues to call, then simply arrives invited or not. It was one that I had left overtime by accident.

~and so here I stand, with a sword in my hand, you can say it one more time, what you don't like, have a seat while I take to the sky~

I have journeyed through my calm, but as such almost forgotten my wonder..

Parts of myself I saw flicker have newly begun to reappear. Residing here on my own has changed so much. It's about sitting in a quiet place, and asking myself what I hear... What has been heard, and what has not yet been told.