The one thing that connects all humans, besides love and empathy, is dreams. Everyone has dreams, whether they’re the more mental/physical dreams you have at night, goals that you strive for, or just the way that you picture yourself 10 years in the future. Dreams connect every person on earth, and that is an incredible thing. Personally, my dreams have changed a lot over the years. This time last year, my dreams included getting into a college (trust me, I was doubtful), wanting to share more of my art, and that one weird dream where my cat was dyed red and found in a hotel fish tank for some reason. Now, I have gotten into college (go Violets!), I now share my art on the daily, and my cat is thankfully still not dyed red. Dreams are different for everyone, and they are something deeply personal to many. They aren’t just the weird things your brain comes up with in the dead of night, but also your goals, ambitions, and the wildest things you can think of yourself doing. Our lives revolve around dreams and are the reason why we do anything– why we choose our majors, why we pick up new hobbies, and why we always strive to do better. My dad always used to tell me, “If you want to go into film, go to the Oscars, if you want to do a sport, go to the Olympics, and if you want to go into science, win a Nobel Prize.” Now, while this is a loaded statement, it is inspiring. If you want to do something, if you dare to dream, then dream. Don’t let the world get you down. Don't let negative comments make you think any differently. If you believe in yourself and your dreams, then, however cheesy this statement is, you really can do anything you set your mind to. It’s just a question of
Is your Dream good enough for you?
Happy Dreaming, St. Francis.
Your Editor-in-Chief, Rou Pereira
Neha Vasanthan
DreamGarden Mary Gaffey
SofteningSunset Seyvene Kahwaji
LaLuna Bella Hernandez Zafra
Dormant and silent in winter till anew in spring. Sand sand can’t you do your thing.
Miniature dreams whisk around in sparks flying. Hush hush hush.
Little dreams settle at dusk.
Leaving the winter sea crying.
Seyvene Kahwaji
A Reach for th
When I close my eyes, I ca
My brain a whirlwind o
The sheep are My math homework torn, I’ve lost count of all the tears I've borne.
When I do fall asleep
I dream of what I wish to achieve. But the slight caveat is they are just barely Out. of. Reach. fly away, hasn’t caught up to
Somnia In my head, I stand amidst
The foggy dream
The colors shift
A wave of sound A wind of words
A broken scene
The voices turn
My head’s a storm I can’t escape But still, Inside the dream I stay.
Kathryn McWilliams
I love people who I have not yet met so much, that I can feel their whispers gnawing on my bones, and their kisses draining out my spinal fluid.
So when I finally get to see their every pore for the first time, I won’t get attacked by transforming caterpillars in my throat, for I will have already loved them for eternity.
And I mourn people who are still alive, And mugs which have not yet shattered, and leaves still green on the autumn trunks.
So when I see the open casket, and your grey-blue skin, I will not cry, or sob, or fall to my kneecaps, for I will have already felt the loss for years.
There are days I am so angry at myself, that bullets flow through my hell-hot veins, and fingernails tear at every hair follicle on my head.
So when the world disappoints me with injustice and war, I have no ammunition left to shoot or eyebrows left to raise. I just stare blankly at the universe, and hold it like I would a lost child.
And there are times I am so grateful, that every nanometer of life feels like a miracle, and I watch God radiating out of every particle on earth. So that when I die and at last meet the angels, I will not be awestruck by their divine beauty, for I will have already seen it in the flowers on my windowsill.
I feel everything so deeply, so intensely, in every cell of my body, that one day I’ll have nothing, nothing, left to feel.
Take me to the Land Familiar and Unknown
Wave your wispy palms over my weary eyes
Take my fatigued hands and show me the path that I wander every fortnight
Lead me to the land beyond the living and before the dead
Show me all the things that I’ve covered and hidden away
Whisper to me all that I've carried in my stubborn arms
Remake and revision what I know and what is known of you
When the saintly sun meets the land and descends below the horizon
And when the magnanimous moon takes the sun ’ s place to watch above
Take me to the land of all things uncertain, changing, and remarkable
Show to me all the possibilities that I will never see when I am unreachable by your hands
And when the sun rises into the sky once more
Let me forget it all and for it to sink back down to where it was born
And let us repeat this cycle again and again until I cross over to the land where I once came so close to every ti
Christie So
She licked her lips when she drowned me I wasted on the shore, I dreamt a gull would soar, And swoop me from my feet. I dreamt the sand had washed off me, Like I had never swum, Had never touched the sand. But choked and fixed to wring, Lifted awake in the morning, Cried with no lips to say, My body had decayed.
I read a poem once; it tasted like a mandarin.
I read a poem once. “The Orange” by Wendy Cope. It consumes me, I consume it.
Tasting its tang on my tongue, The wonders of her words whirl, Like its sweet juice in my mouth, And its citrus aroma That fills the air I breathe in.
Carefully, its skin unfurls. I eat an orange each day. A mandarin: Magnificently mundane, Ridiculously routine. Still, each time it brings me joy. Do you know how much you are loved.
Faye
Carson
