Questioned about the determination in her stride
The spirit of her ancestors flows within
Knowing that such a woman mistaken for weakness
So the fierceness erupts in hazel flames
Questioned about the deepness in her voice
Ancient queens speak from the cornerstone in her bones
Mistaken for something shy and petite
So the drums pour out from the strength in her tones
Questioned because who she is
Different frown on as society infringes on her space
The winds whisper throughout the darkness of her locks
So wisdom is reflected along her sun scorned skin
Standing alone, bare footed so that the vibrations of the Mother reaches as soft as a Mother’s caress
Afar, stepping where warriors roamed
Understand this
Spinning, arms open her laughter is haunting
Understand this
She is chained to Creation
Understand this
She is not afraid
The softness of lilac that paints the sky enraptures her heart
And when the Moon calls, swiftly racing across the prairie
The Gypsy will run aside, leaping, riding with the silver mane tangled in her grasp
Swiftly disappearing into her beloved valley as the veil parts
She is bonded to the Holy Spirit
Called by Her Creator, free.
