I have been thinking a lot about the mysteries
that are women

and what those gardens contain.
I see them as large and varied:
part cultivated and part wild,
but always beautiful;
colorful and with plants of different textures, heights, and scents.

Some who have entered a woman's garden
prefer to stick to one tiny area…
I prefer to roam freely to discover all that is within.

There are meandering paths
with unexpected benches
inviting one to rest.
And there is always water…
gently lapping
at the side of the path.

The forests that contain the mystery of men
have magic and enchantment about them,
but they are often invisible
to the undeveloped eye.

But once entered,
they are striking.

Within, there are purposeful paths
but also whispered invitations to strike out
in an unchartered direction.
There is water here, too…
loud, rushing water.
And amazingly,
very deep within,
but almost impossible to find,
is
another
garden.