I discovered this prose poem, which I wrote a few years back in celebration of the founding of a school in Cape Town. It was used as part of a much longer programme on the day. It may well be that others may want to use it in part celebration of their school. The school that the poem celebrates would be described as a very privileged school with all the facilities that they needed. Nonetheless all they possessed was because of the vision and foresight of men and women who had gone before.
There are many heads of school, teachers and administrators who are working so hard in our poorer schools throughout the country to create places of education and learning, and communities that care for their children. There are men and women who give of their time, go into schools and read to young children who are struggling to read and write. People of vision, courage and determination. They too are the dreamers.
Who the Dreamers
Our school is a tree of life
robust and fecund in our Earth
blossoms come, they fall, they seed,
they sleep, they dream to awaken to light,
always upward, they push, they
reach beyond the mulch of soil
they stretch, unfurl, unfold
into the filtered light of day
to reach the canopy of stars
I found my dream in the pocket of my soul, a silver coin!
Since then, I have walked in a sun beam of light.
The world cries: I am broken, I am hurt, I am sad.
I will dream its wholeness and healing,
and will teach it to dance.
Who the dreamers! What the imagination!
Who imagined these fields of learning and delight, the parabolas and tangents of a girl’s mind, the corridors and avenues of languages, the galleries and theatres of art and drama, the little cells of music and concert halls, the lanes of swimmers, and fields of games, the chapel of prayer and outreach that will share all this with our brother, our sister
And what of the dreamers of tomorrow? Come and throw your web of imagination over us and walk us through the mists of the future. For we want to know,
yes we would know that there is always someone dreaming,
someone dreaming us.
So we must laugh and we must sing,
We are blest by everything,
Everything we look upon is blest. (Yeats)
Blessing for School Leavers
Said over piano music
May the notes we have been making
The notes on the piano of your life
The sharp notes, the flat notes
The black notes, the white notes
The slow notes of the boredom days
The staccato notes of the exciting days
The notes that made you stop and sing
And see yourself being made new
And the music you came with
The jingle of childhood, the fugue of family
The serenade of love, the canticle of faith
May theses notes sing your heart like a prayer
And may they return to you when you need them
In days beyond our minuets with you
May they become a rhythm and a beat that is yours
And may God who chants the universe into being
Sing you into the melody and harmony that is you,
And may the Christ music of compassion,
And the Spirit’s air of assurance and inspiration
Be with you now and always
Amen
The piano music is thanks to: White Petals by Keys of Moon | https://soundcloud.com/keysofmoon
Attribution 4.0 International (CC BY 4.0)
https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/
Music promoted by https://www.chosic.com/free-music/all/
- Poem for Grandchildren living far away
- Reflection on the Conversion of St Paul
- Reflection on the Sower
- The Mustard Seed Prose Poem
- Report on the launch of my poetry book, The Dance of Life
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