empowering women, families, and youth-at-risk through improved literacy, increased positive media, and tools for living.

By Walter William Safar

In the dreamlit night I chase shadows
to their rest,
and I stare at the colorless land
to direct infinity towards the place where imagination rules,
and the adventurous wind
that scatters dreams into this dreamlit night,
and the dreamlit night caresses the golden wings of the heavenly bird,
because it knows that this is the bird
that gives birth to colored dreams.
From your rainbow eyes, golden bird,
I am stealing rays of light
with the childish hope
that I shall dream a colored dream someday,
because people say that dreams are but the reflection of our lives,
and my dreams are so black and wistful,
like the shadows
I chase to sleep.
For hours, days and months I am faithfully following the golden bird,
that shines so beautifully
in this dreamlit night,
in all the nights of this life,
I follow it like a black crow
that never dreamed a colored dream,
as if death had branded me with its black gaze.
If only for a moment I could dream a colored dream,
like that golden bird,
so I could fly that high,
high,
to the very heart of the rainbow;
Into the land of colors,
where colored dreams are born,
Oh, Lord, how sad each man
who dreams my dreams must be.
Is there no end to this infinity
traveling through my dreams
to the colorless land?
Tell me, Lord, how can I touch my colored dreams?
How do I get to the colored land,
so that my dreamy nights
shall once
become bright?