Every time I fall, I think of you,
No matter how I fall, no matter when I do.
In moments of despair, It is you that i find there,
Your presence fills the air, no emotions can compare to me with you.
When I stumble and the world feels cold,
Your memory is a warmth, a hand to hold.

Come and take a walk with me
On a summer's eve so bright,
Smell the honeysuckle bloom
Beneath the fading light.
Tell me how you laugh and cry,
What stirs your heart, what makes you sigh,
Speak of dreams you hold inside,
And perhaps I'll share the ones I left behind.

Come and take a walk with me
Through autumn's fleeting glow,
Feel the crisp and cooling air
As time begins to slow.
Tell me all you hoped to be,
The things you sought so endlessly.
Let me show you what you'll learn,
Through every loss and twist and turn.


Come and take a walk with me
On winter's frozen ground,
We won’t be long—just take my hand,
No need to linger 'round.
Share your life in quiet tones,
No need to make a sound,
I’ll match your peace with calm my own.
Perhaps you'll glimpse beyond my gloom,
And see who hides within this room.

Come and take a walk with me
As spring begins to sing,
Tell me of the love you’ve found,
The joy your future brings.
Speak of family, wedding days,
The dreams you've shaped in tender ways.
I’ll listen close, with no disdain,
For the life I lost won’t cloud your gain.
And as you go, just softly say,
Remember me, my very own name, for you and I are always the same.

Falling is scary. You give up safety. Security. Except sometimes, you don't.
Like when you fall back
to a simpler time.
Or falling in love. Falling on your bed.
Or falling in line.
I guess what I'm saying is...
sometimes, it's okay to fall.

People ask how scientists know it’s truly fall,
And people tell them about the Fall equinox.
That we know it’s Fall when the sun dips below the horizon,
On both halves of the globe.
That the coming of fall is when the people in the southern side of the earth,
Have spring.

That is how science knows it’s fall,
But how do we know the date, the hour?
I could tell you when fall is here,
But it won't be down to the minute.
I know fall has come when the winds turn cold,
And the leaves of the oak trees are bleeding.
When the streets are empty of the children playing,
When I sit on a fallen birch log on the beach,
Staring at the water, but I’m shivering in a flannel,
And the water is frozen over.
When i come home and the tea kettle is going,
But all the summer lemon tea is put away.
Little changes in these things, they will lead me astray.

The coming of fall.

That’s how I know the fall is coming,
Not by watching the hours of my days.
Not based on when the sun rises in Iran,
But by the feel of the winds,
But by the blood of the leaves.
And by the tears that have fallen,
On these empty streets.

The Fall Of Twenty-Twenty Four.

November comes in waves,
First, the leaves turn orange,
And fall from the trees.
Second, the last summer bird flies away,
And the city is left lonely,
With the haunting song of the crows.
Third, the winds turn bitter and cold,
And those who walk the streets dwindle,
Till I’m walking the city and find I’m alone.

The fault line grows as I reach for your hand.
Will you pull me closer or let the Earth swallow me whole?
The ground beneath my feet crumbles but I don't dare move.
To fall for you is certain death.