When Winter leaves
Where the river stops breathing,
Where the ice keeps strange names,
I stand between «was» and «will be»,
I am silence.
The snow doesn't remember,
The fire doesn't warm,
The raven is silent at my hand,
I close what doesn't dare
To leave.
Let go
Of what no longer breathes.
Burn
What keeps you in darkness.
I am not death.
I am the end that is heard.
I am the winter,
That goes away in a dream.
A scarecrow is a form without a heart,
Ashes are a memory without words.
In order for spring to be born,
It is necessary to leave love
For what has become heavy,
For what does not go.
The moon turns its face away,
The clouds cover the trail.
When no one looks into the ring,
The end
Becomes the light.
Let go,
I hold this threshold.
Burn it
And don't look back.
I'm not the enemy.
I'm your last inhale
Before
The Garden begins.
Ashes on the snow…
A name without sound…
The form is gone…
The essence remains…
Ashes on the snow…
The circle is over...
Whoever was will fall asleep…
Whoever is ready will pass...
I will leave,
When it is empty.
I will leave,
When the world goes deathly still.
The Love –
Not pain and not feeling.
It's the door
Through which all that lives steps in.
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