the stars would fall from the sky

the sun would turn grey

the moon would hid her face

the race would be worse with no embrace

the tress would wilt from the sadness they felt

the rocks would crumble into dust

the water would cease it’s movement

the mountains would turn upside down

the hills would become flat

the flat lands would disappear

the roads would lead to no where

man would be dried up

the children would cease their laughter

the birds would cry tears

the caterpillars would not become butterflies

the beauty would be gone

the desert would implode

the flowers would have no bees

the bees would have no pollen

we would all wither into a field of mustard seed.

Blessings of love

rené remington

4/27/01

Auburn, CA

10 am