lovers not yet born
in the womb of night
they turn in their universe
a slow dance
they are listening
they dream
lovers not yet born
growing they wake
slowly to a song
sent from stars
which died so long ago
their future
is a memory
which will guide
their travel.
their sign a kiss
cut in a tree
they will walk
in darkness
and they will walk
in light
whirlwinds
at their heels
like dogs
on a leash
they will
learn their words
and they will
learn to talk
lovers not yet born
hand in hand
and hope is a flower
never to be cut
