And if I met my dad before I was born
I would tell him
"Let her go"

"Let her live, smile, be loved"
"Let her be hurt without your touch"
"Let her laugh with others"
"Cry tears with others"
"Let her life be hers to clutch"

I know I won't exist
And I know you will have lost her
But better for me not to breathe
And better for you just to grieve
Than give her the life that cost her

Wind gnaws at the cliffs,
breaking stone to grains of dust,
mountains lose their shape.

Dust is swept downstream,
drifting past the river’s edge,
soft hands carve through stone.

River splits the earth,
pulling roots from loosened ground,
trees bow, then descend.

Leaves drown in the waves,
fading under briny hush,
light slips into blue.

Foam dissolves to mist,
rising toward the silent peaks,
snow begins to bloom.

Cold weighs on the rock,
frost unthreads the mountain’s bones,
wind gnaws at the cliffs.