My beloved Oslo - weather

Early morning and on my way to work.

Friends and partners in Gaza are in despair. They need actions, not words and concerns. They need protection. They need urgent supplies of water and food, shelters and medicine. 


"I run after the poems of hope!
Amidst the frozen green grass, algae grows.
The moon peeps shyly, like a teenage girl.
And dreams roam from street to street on a horse-drawn carriage,
As was the case in centuries past.
The captured image is in black and white.
I said Why: they said that the truth has no colors?
Sometimes dreams are bigger than the muscles of truth.
And sometimes they shrink, like a passing daydream.
From afar, we hear the sounds of explosions.
Houses collapse on their owners.
Who remains of the victims to tell the story?
Thus said a poet who only writes poetry on sad occasions.
And here I am trying to catch a runaway poem of hope.
It runs on the deserted beach.
And I run after the poem.
The winds blow from all directions.
And I run after the poem of hope"
S.H.