Upon the journey, destination is caravan circle, becoming part of motion endless.
By campfire of night is comfort waiting to be known and embraced in mind.
Darkness parts by light contained within the hands of men, not blocking the stars.
Life is this place, a space which fills the spirit, knowing fate as wandering freedom,
coming close in moments of quietude, thought and rest is found in ground beneath.
Human breath becomes part of the flame as life, glowing before into unseen.
Tonal notes met between silence, sung by those not human, comforting music,
sound of meadow and wood, whenever heard it is understood.
Gypsy path, heart of me