The oppressed in the world,
Live invisibly, without a name,
Music, their soul and legacy;
The Roma, in Carpathia, Ukraine.
Survival lies within their fingers,
Plucking guitars, or sleight of hand…
Hope lies in their dreams escaping
Prejudice and their homeland.
Hope lives in wearing bright colors,
Preserving their culture in song,
Thinking more of living each day,
Than the people doing them wrong.
They live in my bathroom curtains,
The lace in my window sill,
Bought in the tribal campground,
Where grandmas are tatting still.
Roma transported me to another culture and time, shaking me awake to see the world is more than filling the dryer, keeping the peace between cats and checking to see if someone anonymously put a million dollars in my bank account overnight. I'll let you know. Thank you, Mike. Eileen
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