Go;

The sun is rising in the west to bring light over the sunset.

Two moons mirroring each other, not making a move.

Stars that no one sees bring light into the darkness.

-Should I go?

Dust gathers in the desert, covering the ground to be able to fly.

Winds create waves at the water-surface, its unmoving face black as a summer-cloud, telling paper-flowers the story of dying fire.

-Can I walk?

At the exploration of feathers when a star-set die, the earth open to reveal the surface of leaves; dancing with the devil in heaven.

Butterflies dropping winter-tears to hide the magic that brought the gummy-bears into movement.

-Do you want me to leave?

Paper-pages turning to reveal captured words, speaking freely in an unknown tongue, hiding the meaning of language.

Letting go of the roots, pulling out the tread to let it be a part of a spiders web that freely float through an autumns last breath as spring is closing itself around.

Winter-bells ringing to the stars of snow, clutting to a life that fails.

-Then I shall go.

Goodbye, my winter-leaves…