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Gypsy Pilgrimage Gypsy Pilgrimage
by David Sparenberg
2013-01-07 12:31:53
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We are on the road.  It is both peaceful and lively to be together.  And there is a magic in the motion of many with honest and open hearts.  We are many, but not all.  More are passing by, fixated on fleeing, and the faster they make the distance of escape, vanishing between points of x and y and z, the better.  They long to arrive and arriving they depart again.
But what is their speed to us, who are in the trance of lingering and the slow, gyrating dance of belonging?  We have scarcely any part in their departing, other than to say they could have stayed, they can, they could be here among us, make themselves welcome—we are the same.  They can return.
Over that horizon, as the sun moves, is a meadow. And gypsies of the cosmos are gathering in that blissful place.  Are we not also of those caravans and tribes?  Meadow flowers are all about, both on the ground and in the air.  Flowers proclaim the value of time-upsetting celebrations.  And angles—not those intimate in cradles of our souls, but the mirroring ones—are steadily descending.  They come to play with children and to listen to the crackling memories of the old.  How wondrous and how precious to be alive, to experience breath and freedom, and to smell and taste the sweet and pungent spices of desire!
Tell me freely—if you will and should, if you are both jester and prayer-maker, if you are awake to see that I am lost in the abundance of these friendships—tell me this: Is it only a dream to believe that peace is possible; even on a planet overpopulated by ghosts of war; and that this depleted Earth can be restored, the wounded healed, the diminished replenished, the misshapen lifted into shining and the broken, who hold their pieces in lonely hands, brought once—once into wholeness? 
Say please, and if your response is “yes” and yet you smile, sharing with my eyes the tender glow of mortal beauty, I will hold your yes and smile within my heart, this aching treasure-urn of repentance and of joy.
Then let us light our fires, stand in rings, and talk of courage, and dream together yet awhile, until we have made the better of our good dreams come true and blessed the meadow of our meeting with the common feast of earthen presence and adoration.  There the flowers, fragrant and alive with colors, shall not bruise us, our footsteps being naked reverence and our bodies, in the purple aura of humility, shaping some gentle weather of human glory.
There in that morning’s robes of pilgrimage I do believe—I must—the dove of now will descent unto us and find a home.  What lost speech in that eternal-moment might become a festival for all in hallelujah, prayer, and gypsy song?
David Sparenberg
3-4 Jan. 2013


From LIFE IN THE AGE OF EXTINCTIONS, Volume Two, a work-in-progress. Volume One is currently available as a free ebook download from OVI, HERE!

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Emanuel Paparella2013-01-07 14:56:04
Indeed dear friend and colleague David, we are all pilgrims on a journey on this earth, and the earth itself is on an epic cosmic journey. Those with a sense of the poetic intuit that in the beginning of the journey there was the Word which supplies meaning and purpose to the journey so that it does not become and exercise in futility, the journey of a lunatic without a clear purpose and destination.

I hear distant echoes in your thoughtful insightful aphorisms of that other legendary Tuscan teacher-poet-pilgrim who lived on earth some seven hundred years ago. He too went on a transcendent epic journey “in the middle of the journey of OUR lives” and powerfully tapped into that most powerful and human of Jungian archetypes: the journey from cradle to tomb…teaching us, as you do also, that there are more important existential concerns than how the stock market is faring today.

Leah Sellers2013-01-08 05:32:55
Dear Mr. David,
Sir, I do so Love your Poetry and your Poetic Soul.
Thank you for Sharing your Gift and Insights with fellow Cosmic Gypsies.

David Sparenberg2013-01-08 22:14:20
Hello Emanuel & Leah Sellers. Thanks to both. Dante does have a way of haunting memory, in his profound images if not in his theology. To the two of you and all other readers of this composition, please supply "angels" (of course) for angles descending, which only an astrophysicist would figure out if at all. And Thanos, what a bleak road in that photo! Must be Finland in Winter. But you, and all, always and so very much appreciated.

David Sparenberg2013-01-09 00:45:53
Thanks for your kind and supportive comment on Gypsy Pilgrimage, Leah. If you care to exchange email addresses, I would be pleased and honored to ask you to personal friends. Here is my email, if you choose to send me a hello note and get in the address book. Blessings...

Note from the editorial team: David had added his email address in the end but we deleted for clear security reasons. Ovi is a magazine thousands read and we don’t want him to be overwhelmed from bulk or trash mail and unfortunately there are a lot who 'fish' email addresses from all around and use them in an inappropriate way. We will gladly send Leah, David’s mail.

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