one day, out of the blue,
you will think of me.
you will look for me, and
i will be gone.

there is a map,
but i took it with me
for i did not wish to lose the way.

do not follow.
this road is for me
–only me–
and i will travel it to the end,
which is, i believe, just–there,
beyond that dim blue star
in Cassiopeia.

sometimes, the road is so very dark.
leavings of ancient travelers,
like unanswered questions, abandoned nearby
in the ditch, the high grass.

soon enough, i will near the exit.

did you know?
there are,
held tight in my fists,
entire worlds of memory–
laughter, touch, tears, love.

most of all, love.

perhaps this journey
is not leaving a place,
but finding a place.

i relax my fingers.
my feet leave the grass.
i am light, as the air.
the map, left beneath the Great Tree.
my eyes, wide.