How Can I Run Away

My gypsy spirit feels shackled

Tied in the ribbons of life.

Alarm clock mornings, it wants to break free from.

It wants to lie down in the bower of flowers.

With sun rays and dew drops bathing the ache away.

Sprinting with the spring fragrance

It wants to reach out to the clouds

Light spirited, scudding across the fearless white foam.

How much it craves to be lost in the silent snowy mountains

Or to be born a fish in fathomless forgotten oceans.

Tired it is of monotonous walk on the long black roads

Tired it is of crossing the daily routine doors.

The dazzling lights blind it

It searches for silent corridors

Far from the screaming crowds

Far from the cranky call outs

It wants to hide in and breathe serene calm

O how it wishes to nestle in the monks arms.

O gypsy spirit then why hesitate

Go, the new robe awaits........

It can't.....it can't run away

I hear chirruping and sobs on my back

I see dreams growing wings

Those eyes hands feet look like me

How can I spill the pearls on the field.

I have to continue with my shackled voyage

Those chirruping need an open safe sky.