Dripping with Curiosity

The door you can never enter,
intricate patterns carved into the door.
A child should be seen and not heard,
so you dared never enter the wooden door.

Older, you arrive at the house from long ago;
no longer a child, yet you have the heart of a child.

No longer afraid, you are dripping with curiosity.
To hell with it, you whisper,
then turn the handle and walk into the room.

Your Grandmother sits at her desk,
within a room of dreams and magic,
‘I wondered when you would join me.’

You smile and take the stars within your hands;
now you are ready for your mother’s secrets.

‘You have always been a witch, and now it is time to become one. Welcome to the heart of our coven, my beautiful Granddaughter.
I wish your mother could see this day, yet you know she still lingers.’

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