True Love of Coffee

I sat down
aware that I as seeking a reason for being here
The old gypsy woman smiled with her weathered lips
grasping my hand so gently with such warm fingers
as she pressed her palm against my own
and told me what I was scared of

That my life was short
but not incomplete
My heart was defiant and strong
and that I would become a passionate spirit
troubled by trying to reach a point
that would move farther than I could travel

She told me that I would not faulter
that while life did not encompass my dream
that it would touch someone else so deeply
and my hope and faith would inspire another soul
It would pull them from the bitter soil covering their hands
and allow them to cherish an embrace of a loving heart

I asked the old gypsy woman
if she could tell me how to best travel
her eyes spoke of her wisdom in such matters
and without words, she placed a single rose petal in my hand
She closed my fingers around it
It was warm, secure, and soft enough that it faded from my grasp

“That is what your travel will be”
For a moment, I did not understand
I pulled my hand from her and looked down with doubt
The petal was gone
It was now a full rose in bloom
Vibrant and amazingly delicate

“That is what your life will be”
I was confused
My eyes deceived me
and my imagination seemed to play along
but I felt something
A part of my spirit heard what she had said

I looked into the old gypsy woman’s eyes
and said I believed her
She smiled and laughed under her breath
as she knew I didn’t understand
I took a dollar and left it on the table
Yet she placed the dollar back into my hand

“This will bring you true understanding”
I took it and slipped it back into my pocket
as I waved good-bye to the old gypsy woman
I began walking slowly to my house while pondering her words
My thoughts asked so many questions that I could not answer
and yet I found myself at ease

I wandered through the street fair, delaying my return home
As I looked at a colorful world that amazed so many children
and left the adults wondering about daily life
I looked at the clowns and the parrots,
the merchants and the beggars
and I found myself understand everything so clearly

Yet I did not understand myself
I was a child looking at a soul I could not comprehend
It was lavish in color and so unique in its construction
My thoughts of everything included nothing of me
until I simply bumped into a stranger
as small boy, who reminded me so much of myself

He looked at me, no through me
a tear in his eye
and a trail of unhappy thoughts on his face
he pointed to the sky
high above us a single red balloon faded from view
and yet the boy held it dearly in his heart

I took the boy’s hand
and told him it would be alright
I reached into my pocket
Searching for the dollar
and instead found a single rose petal
a petal of no value I thought

But I made my way to the merchant clown
who was a lovely old man
Telling him I needed a balloon to give this small boy
and without question he gave it to me free of charge
He smiled and he laughed and gave me the balloon
he even patted me on the head

I turned to the boy
but he was no where to be found
I searched the crowd and found myself alone
wondering how I had delayed my own problems
to give something of myself to solve a child’s dilemna
and I was simply left holding this pretty red balloon

I walked home, somewhat frustrated
Gazing at this simple floating piece of rubber
That for no apparent reason made me so happy
and I laughed, having tried to do what I could
Realizing the old gypsy woman was right
that a rose petal would bring me understanding

I would hold onto a dream
a petal, a balloon
I would hold onto a faith
and keep it dearly with my childlike spirit
trusting my heart to the beauty and happiness
an old gypsy woman had shared with me

This entry was posted on Thursday, July 13th, 2006 at 11:23 pm and is filed under Coffee - Volume Two, Inquisitive, Spiritual. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.