To Be a Gypsy

My skirt swirls as I dance in the moonlight to the sound of a tambourine.
The stone beneath my feet is air and I’m weightless,
just dancing, dancing.
My cup jingles as someone tosses in a gold piece and I smile at them.
It’s a little girl-
and she smiles up at me admiringly before her mother sweeps her away.
I feel a drop hit my head and I look up into the cloudy sky,
a smile creeping across my face.
It looks like tonight we will have a Rain Dance.
I raise my hands to the sky and close my eyes as the drops start to fall.
They fall harder and harder,
but the tambourine beats on.
As the sky gets darker, the nobility rush into their warm, dry houses,
but my people come out, celebrating this gift from Heaven.
Soon the tambourine is joined by a drum
and a single, clear voice rises up to the night sky,
intertwining with the rain.
I open my eyes for a moment and see that I’m not dancing alone anymore.
I’ve been joined by at least twenty others and there are still more coming.
We’ll dance until the sun rises to dry our wet clothes.
I smile, embracing freedom.
We all raise our hands and dance as one.
This is what freedom feels like.
This is what it feels like…
To be a gypsy.