as the leaves change,
my shelves begin to shed the heaviness of treasures and things
that no longer serve me.
no desire to find my way back through the path i came before.
this time will be different.
the way i always intended it to be.
with that comes fear, doubt, and trepidation
as the days dwindle towards my departure.
what will become of me out there?
what will become of me here?
as a leave falls, leaving the tree it’s grown to be apart of,
it takes its own descent to become apart of something greater.
as i make my way to the root of the root,
i am fearful of the unknown, but more fearful
if i never let go.