They say going away is not
Love lost but the beginning of creation,
Of a big bang or a garden fruit,
When they are ripe or ready,
They are de-branched.
I prefer a simple union,
Because avalanches await for
Those who stray far and wide.
Why going off is a part of the process?
Is this division or decrement:
One part detached, one part united?
It is a wireless connection.
We would love more or forget completely
The distance defines the correlations;
We will meet but misfortune suffices
A refuge for the time;
It is not the matter of gain or loss
A joy kindles the sadness of separation