A Dream Is Knocking

Knocking at my door comes a Dream today.
Shall I choose to let in
will I send it away.
It had come before and long waited there
while I, like you, for it searched
in some other somewhere
for I was told the dream to ignore
even better yet, to believe it no more.
But here it is once more
Knocking at my door
Like a hopeful note of a sweet refrain
In the early light of November morn’.

It had traveled long and is standing near –
and all that stands ‘tween us –
‘tween the dream and I,
is a wooden pane,
an old plain white birch
maybe oak – closed door
the kind that keeps those ‘them’ there
and those ‘us’ –
safely here.

now the Dream stands too
on the other side
if I wait too long
he may just be gone
and never again
will I dare ask – where?

It’s a Dream of things
not yet –
but of soon to be.
It’s a song we sing when our hearts are free
of a War ended, of a son’s return
of a worker’s pride in his hand’s reward
of a torch once bright
that has gone so dark,
but again will shine
when tomorrow comes,
of myriads hopes tarnished
once again restored,
of a mother’s wish
for a daughter’s right
to be free to choose,
from the yokes of laws
and clutches of men
her body stolen –
to regain!

Of an earth we heal
as the threat we heed
when oceans and forests
to us talk and plead,
of a people’s prayer
when the times are hard
of a nation’s wounds –
when it’s halved apart
by the voice of fear
and the sounds of hate
where lies in legions are forged
and truths rejected and scorned!
wounds we’ll try and mend
when tomorrow comes
when us and them
again are but one.

through the door still shut –
and my eyes still closed
Now able to think
Not afraid to wish
I can dare to want
so the Dream I ask –

Are you weary friend?
Now you’ve come so far
Are you not afraid?
For arduous and long
lies ahead the road –
as the future dons now upon its face
the opaque robes of uncertainty,
as ever cunning lurks our enemy
And ever relentless the foe
And, though clear to you
the task at hand,
each journey’s glorious end
must still its thousands woes
face.

will you still remain
once you’ve boarded that kingly train,
vigilant and strong
when the meek and coward label you wrong
when the people’s voice
in dissent cry out
will you still us guide
with a steady hand
and not choose to hide
as so well has done
the dark king we knew
who did not know us
And to whom with glee
we hope at last to say:
king, dark knights, court jesters and all,
here to you we bid
this our glad farewell!”

And the Dream reply
as the door I pry –
is concise and clear
and the voice is strong
and the heart is brave –
and it speaks to me words
I’ve longed to hear
find our long lost way
to a brave and brand new day –
when sweet freedom song
to us all belongs,
where allegiance is
what it always was –
to a grand old flag,
and a country mine
not just yours and theirs
but forever ours.

So that hand in hand
we can safely walk
in a world where doors
be they birch or oak
will no longer shut
but choose to remain
for the longest while
open wide to both you and I
to them and to us.

at my door came a Dream today
I chose.

Annette H. Sabbah is a Los-Angeles based multi-media artist, designer and writer.