To Ridinghood:

The marvel of writing....

Come in – open the door –

Invitation, salutation, greetings!

But how much can you know about
a stranger?

Though

Writing opens the soul
and spills the yearning heart;
through patterns of words I
Learn You.

Moon, spoon, mermaids and weather,
June afternoon, glades of heather.

mother to some, granny to four,
unique voice in the World, yet something more.


Little Red Ridinghood
went through the woods;
Tempted by a fox,
She said hi to Goldilocks—


And yet we ramble through
This curious circle called
Life—three

of cups: Life overabundant and overflowing.

And this is my tribute to you:

Though

You are stranger


You are Life,
You are Voice,
You are Existence.



Note: written for ridinghhood-p.boutilier for her birthday.

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