Come with me
You will be the rustling of trees
I—the breath of the wind
In the morning, you will shine with the silver of dew
And I will shine with the first ray of sunlight.
In the evening, we will fly away
Along with the flutter of birds’ wings
And fall asleep
In the fragrant arms of flowers.
You speak to me
And I—I so love the melody of your words
You reach out your hand
And I already know its warmth from dreams
You turn away—I know it is fear
You are afraid of my darkness,
Streaks of light on the trees
Then you smile
And I must go
And you give me that smile
As I give you a withered leaf.