The leaves wither, so they wither. The petals fall, so they fall. Let's not chase after them, let's not ask. It's neither possible nor necessary. Let language and words disappear. Let time and meaning go with the wind. Because everything will return; it has never truly left. Because in that fleeting moment, the leaves are always there, the petals are always beautiful. Because in this timeless moment, the petals can hold the universe, the leaves are filled with gods.