‘Mr. Moody and She’
She walked toward infinite possibilities
as if the rushing water were sliding her snail like,
hidden in the depths of self
with unknown recess
If indeed like the cesspools of leaves and rot were failings
You know what I shall say next; yes?
All that rot churns up a feeling for the birthing of
and fiddling up a ‘next moment’
Let go of snake eyes and double sixes
win your life
on the road we develop
Again, RB is a mystical place, I was once again inspired to write by way of
Mr. Moody and his lovely work of art
His beautiful prose to his daughter touched me so deeply and then my pen sang back.
Days like this on RB is why I shall never leave her, I am her and she is me.
Thank you Mr. Moody, so very much. ;-)x