My grandmother grew up fast

And before the winter gave in to the sun

Her daughter kept a secret

Her sons last kiss was the barrel of a gun

One day she held my hand

And told me to never become a mom

I keep her words with me

«If wishes fell like rain, then certaintly I’m a storm»...

When the birds was singing

Like they always do

I started to wonder

If I could sing with them too

The threes tried talking but

I wasn’t awake

Now they sing in my dreams

And for the forest I ache...