Gypsy Wind

The mystical wind that fuels the creative process.

Gypsy Wind

The gypsy wind swirls through my brain,

Turning memories to mush.

It scrambles through my thoughts, again and again,

In one vertiginous rush.

From time to time old ghosts appear,

From that howling cloud,

To say their piece with smile or sneer,

In silence, screaming loud.

I fight my way through the ghastly gale,

The gypsy wind persists,

Determined to tell its own tall tale,

I'm powerless to resist.

This storm is always in my head,

The wind, it wants to own me,

I won't escape it till I'm dead,

The awful things its shown me.

But the gypsy wind just tells the truth,

Shows life with caustic clarity,

Interpretation is yours forsooth,

Oft cause for some hilarity.

Then the wind just blows away,

Rolls on down the road,

Once more your rational mind holds sway,

You're the hero, not the toad.

Prince Charming kisses Snow White,

She wakes from her endless dreaming,

Says, “My dreams gave me a dreadful fright,

Changing real to just seeming.”

The mind is such a fragile thing,

It can be broken like a glass,

Or it can make a stone heart sing,

And wondrous things then come to pass.

So listen to the gypsy wind,

It just might speak to you,

And when and if it does,

Remember, it speaks true.

© 2023 The Iron Horseman

Author's Note

I would love to hear your thoughts on what this poem is actually about!

Reviews

[A. Kim Spradling]

Hello, Horseman,
I stopped by today. It has been too long.

To me, the Gypsy Wind is your emotions and thoughts swirling around in your head. It can be delightful or tear you apart if you over think which I ALWAYS do. Such a nice read my Canadian friend.