Eternal Hope Poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

Eternal hope

In the ditches of a sandy lane where I once lived
tiny etherical bushes sprung up overnight

Brilliantly green as floating in the air, they were
born by the wind and were a child's first dream.

As dreams, they didn't last long, a week at most
one night they flew away, a fairytale untold.

At dawn, before other animals awoke, rabbits
sat hearing a whisper of time eons gone.

In burrows or in homes, the dream appears
often in the form of a lullaby, we call it hope.