The Dream by Tishani Doshi

In these crazy times in the US and rising xenophobia in Europe, I find beauty and comfort in Madras-born Tishani Doshi’s poem, The Dream. It talks of simple dreams and pleasures that immigrants, often displaced involuntarily, seek as they to establish new homes in their adopted lands.


The dream has always been simple —

a porch for the old folks

to sit out in summer,

a garden for vegetables,

children, pets,

a picket fence to keep them in.

The dream has always been about safety.

So even as we sit alone

in our high-rise buildings

and basement apartments

where the outside world comes

to sit at our windows

like a tattered, yellow thing,

the dream is always

on the horizon —


I also love what she has to say about the current political climate: “You think you live in one kind of community and then there are elections or a vote like Brexit and you realize that there are huge rifts in society that come out of fear— fear that has been artificially created and manipulated.”  So true.  Hope the goodness of humankind prevails.



Images via (1), (2)

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