If ever we fall

If ever we fall, let it be known that the singer lost his voice and the guitarist lost his claws. Let the world know that the drummer forgot his tune and the dancers choked in their dust. If ever we fall, let the leaves shed off from their mother trees in the autumn. Let flowers not come out even when spring comes bouncing in. Let the waves stop wherever they have rolled to, and the world comes to a skidding halt. Let the clouds mourn us. Let birds chirp not in the morning. Let streams stop wherever they are and dry up, for who stands when a mountain falls? Which bird still hangs on to a tree when it is crashing to the ground?

If ever we fall, let the people be told that the wind was too strong for the frail branches, and the chameleon too heavy for the withered twig. Let them be told that the flood was too much for the rice field and the ground too hard for the little seed to forge a root. Let lightning strike everything in its path and thunder roll all night till morning comes. Let the clocks pause and disappear into nothingness. If ever we fall, let not grass grow where we hit the ground. Let it be a barren and brown patch to remind the people of they that loved and lost, those that cupid shot but the arrow was fatal. Let stories be told to generation after another, of they that tried to hold on but the roads were too slippery. Hold on to me though, today, and I will not let you fall. Stay a little longer, and I will find a reason to never let go. Fear not though for tomorrow is not here yet and we still have today to soak in the sun and bask in the sweet yellow glare of a love ripe and ready for picking.