Cherish the Wanderer
There is always someone
who looks down upon
the wandering gypsy
who visits only briefly,
leaving behind memories
and dream catchers.
There will also be those
who’ll say they pity
the old souls, the vagabond
everyone calls uncle
who has yarns by the armful
just waiting to be spun.
Such people, truth be told
they envy the courage
it takes to exist betwixt folds
'til exiting through holes
in the emperor's new clothes
made of things material.
The same material cloth
we are all cut from
and still wear in bondage.
While those untethered
are soon gone with the wind
wherever it takes them.
Whatever the weather brings
a breeze only lingers
for the briefest of moments.
Living life moving on
holding the world on a string
not holding on to regret.
And our world is better for it,
so cherish the wanderer.
© Poetry.com