I will tell you with the simple breath of trees

I tell you
with the simple breath of trees
and in the language of snakes
with the the purr of cats
and the snoring of dogs

I tell you
after thirty days of rain
and seven days of wind,
with the frost glittering
in the mornings

I tell you
in the signs of the seasons,
the last spiderweb in the garden
and in the last and frozen roses

I tell you
with the scent of autumn leaves
and the smoke from fires,
with the steam from your coffee
and in the heart of silence

Will you remember
how cold it was in the dream
and how bright the stars
in this clear and moonlit night

Will you remember
how the snow from the fir trees
trickled down our necks
on our burning skin

when we kissed in the forest
and how we forgot,
that we are so small
when our hearts touched

I tell you
with my heart beating,
with the pulse of the plants
and with the sleep of  animals

I remind you
of the memory
of what will be
I wake you

As we listen
to voices and silence
and rhythms of blood.
I take you
to a place

Where we sleep
and you will take me
on the tides
of your dreams
to meet at the shore.

I tell you
and you will tell me.
There will  be quiet birds
to sing in the morning

When the sun rises
next to the full moon
and the cock will crow
into a day filled with light

There we will be
and smile
for one moment
of eternity

As if it was
and will be
now.
And it is.