A gypsy boy
not wanting to be confined
by daily prescriptions
Always jogging on paths
of his own
Still he knows, it’s only
when you stop moving,
you’re called in deeper ways.

Sitting alone in an empty hotel room
Somewhere between nowhere and everywhere
Crying for what he’s seeking
and what he’s leaving behind
Knows he can’t leave his shadow
simply by walking away
Nor find what’s elusive
by chasing illusions

Knows the only way out
is through the pain
Knows that he, like you,
Must take what’s ugly
in his arms and kiss it!