Gypsy Heart

People move in and out of our lives, changing with the seasons, carried away by the nomad gypsy wind. Yet, while they are here, they intertwine their lives with ours, their hearts with our souls. Some come in and shine their guiding light, allowing you to learn something new, and come to some realization about yourself; while others enter in as an eclipse, shading your existence with the knowledge of their being, taunting you, daring you to whisper the words soul mate even just to yourself. Though we are grateful for the former, the latter is the one who truly makes an imprint, taking you to the depths of the darkness and the light within yourself; to an inescapably lurid state of consciousness. And though we are sad when our ray of sunshine leaves, we are distraught when our silver-lined shadow departs; so we attempt to cling to it, clutching to any little bit we are able to maintain a grip on, even if it is just a dwindling memory, vanishing as a drifter with the change of the breeze. In this, we must blink ourselves awake, back to the certainty of a solitary existence, unaccompanied by our ethereal companion, and realize that we can once again see the sky. Only then can we acknowledge the unmistakably soul-shaking encounter for what it was, and appreciate the perpetual change and growth it has caused us; allowing us to exonerate what transient agony it may have triggered, and look forward to what the next gust of wind will blow our way.