Eternal Hope

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.