The gypsy in my soul

Matthew Arnold’s epic poem `The Scholar Gypsy’ delves into the depressing monotony and the toil of modern life. The story is told by told by two narrators:  the Gypsy and the Storyteller. Both convey the same story; the Gypsy has transcended life by escaping modern life. The `disease’ of the modern world is breaking even the strongest of men.

This poem resonates so much with me.  I very rarely work on a Monday. Last week however, I had to make my way into the city catching the 8am train. The station platform was full. As I squeezed myself onto the train, I noticed that most of the passengers had their heads down looking at their phones or sleeping.  The majority of them looked grumpy or sad.  “I am so glad I don’t have to do this every day”, I thought.  Being a slave to a life I dislike would be my worst nightmare.  As I’ve gotten older I have realised that I am no longer a “city person”.  I no longer have the patience for it. I need and want wide open spaces.  The things I once held precious aren’t even on my radar anymore.  I want an easy silence. As soon as I graduate from University, my dream is to move out of the city, find a teaching position somewhere on the coast or somewhere rural.  Find a small cottage to live in, grow vegetables, have chickens and cats and a dog.  Live a simple life (with you).

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“ I am sorry. I am lost. I can’t be found”

words whispered in the dark.

“ I will always find you” I mutter back.

I would ride to the ends of the earth for you, put me to the test.

There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.

Who you are isn’t gone. He is still there inside you.

We can start over.

We’ll run away and leave the city behind.

We can sing lullabies and lay under the sun while the clouds float by.

In our own little world,we won’t need much to keep us warm.

As long as we have each other, it will all be OK.

We can be gypsies.

Students of Love and Life.

We’ll teach each other all we need to learn.

I may not be smart but I’m not dumb.

Your hand on my burning skin is all I need to know.

Let me swim in your blue blue eyes, deep as the ocean and

I’ll breathe new life into you.

You had to lose yourself to find your way back home.

I am home.

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