Rainbow

the-struggle-color

Rainbow

Standing on the apex of all that I think I know,
Wondering where all our leaders went,
are there any beautiful ones left?
Which way did the bluebird fly?
Did it leave with that rainbow?
That promise of equality?
Or did the dreams of our struggle fore-fathers die
As we took those first freedom breaths?
Which way did the blue bird fly? Where did the dream go?
Did it fly so far that we forgot about equal education,
Providing employment, adequate housing and economic equality?
I long for that dream.
That dream of Ashley Kriel, Cissy Gool, Albert Luthuli
And every south african deemed native, white, coloured or asian
Who have all dared to dream a dream that flew,
on blue bird’s wings,
somewhere over the rainbow and took that rainbow with it.
Where did the dream go?
Is it reserved for lucid, night time vigils,
lost in slumber.
And when we awake do we remember,
as this machine grinds and drives us forward,
or do we choose to forget?
Laying our ideals and dreams of freedom to die next to our regret?
Praying that when that blue bird returns it brings that rainbow along with it.
When will enough be enough?
When will our judgements no longer be clouded by our greed?
I sound my call hoping that blue bird hears my screams.
Or that you will find that rainbow in a dream.
And conjure it into this reality
So that we all can taste what it means to be free.
For now, as I stand here, on the apex of all that I think I know,
I hear our fore-fathers and mothers whispering to me on the wind
“Aluta, remember the dream, Continua.”

– Winslow Schalkwyk

Winslow Schalkwyk is a Cape Town born Artist/Activist, Poet, recovering perfectionist but first and foremost a Writer.

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