I am writing poetry from the heart and for the hearts of all people, regardless of religion, race, gender or social class, because it is the sacred duty of poetry to enrich human souls with all those noble values that make us more humane. They say that poets are dreamers. It is precisely the dreaming that is the poet's greatest power, to be a guide to others on the path of dreams leading mankind to a magic land without war, hunger, hate, greed and power. Technological progress without spiritual cleansing doesn't have the power to lead mankind into a more progressive and humane future, because knowledge without ethics, morality and compassion is like a wingless bird. Poets, who are given this noble gift to create poems full of love, compassion, wisdom and faith by the Lord, become a magical monocular through which the castaway seeks out island of rescue. The harder we find love, the more we seek. The future of mankind is hidden in this sentence. The music of life can often be sad, just like the most beautiful love poetry, but life teaches us that joy wouldn't shine without sorrow... in order to appreciate love, sometimes we must be sad, because when you cry, you should be happy you haven't lost your feelings... We should not dread the grey in the sky, but rather the grey in the heart... Because when you love nature as you love people, even dark clouds make sense, just like the sun does. When you think that fate threw you out of the window of life into a bottomless pit, find your rescue in poetry, because poetry is the wings of the soul.   There are poetry magazines praised by the media, that kill the very sense of poetry with its rigid rules. They have the right not to publish poetry that's already been published? Isn't this the way to shoot the very heart of poetry? A poet does not write poetry for an exclusive audience and for a single magazine, but for the entire world, and it is the sacred duty of a poetry magazine editor is to live for poetry, not off poetry. Poetry without readers is like a wingless bird, and those who try to appropriate poetry for themselves and their magazines are cutting the wings off poet dreamers. This is why I will never agree to such rigid and egotistic rules, even at the price of media isolation by so-called big magazines, TV and newspapers. While there are noble internet portals and magazines who publish poetry that was published before, I will not quit flying, because in the end, my readers are my wings.       ROAD OF DREAMS   When destiny leaves you alone in the dark; When your mother and father leave you early; When your dear love leave you early, All you have left are faith; All you have left are dreams, Yes, my friend, life rolls along the road of dreams, And each dream is finished soon;   Travel in peace, dreams of mine, Into the land of color,  the wonderful land of noble memories, So that my blind spirit might see through the turquoise moon's eyes, So that my tired spirit finds its peace in your sacred cradle. Fly with the breath of Freedom, So that you may sow the seed of young hope In the courtyard of heavenly gates;   Travel in peace, dreams of mine, To honor the many tears haunted by memories, To honor the many stars haunted by lonely nights, To honor the many winds haunted by prayers of the unfortunate;   Travel in peace, dreams of mine, Into distant valleys of saturnine silences. Find your humble home In the infinity of human tragedies, So that you may fraternize many unfortunates With your merciful existence, So that my lonely spirit can see the magnificent light In the fraternal souls of people I hold dear;   When they want to kill your dreams, Hoist your flag of faith, hoist your flag of dreams And keep on marching your way, like a noble soldier of Dreams.     ©Walter William Safar   Don't look for Me in the wrong place   Don't look for Me in the wrong place, man, As you shall not see Me in the dead, But in the living eyes of those in need. Your fingers won't feel Me on the face of a dead man, Because I am the face of a living man. Don't be a wingless soul, Be a soul who can raise its wings, Fly into the embrace of those who seek embraces. Do not be a stale lake Of dead fish. Be a living lake So as to avoid starvation, A lake that still keeps quiet. Don't look for Me in glory's splendor. If you want to find Me, Look for Me in the splendor of the eye Of someone you have done good unto. Don't look for Me in a golden chest. Find Me in the human heart. Don't ask Me for a ticket to paradise If you want to fill the golden chest with gold. Real love and real friendship, Unselfishness and compassion, Honesty and awareness that it is better to give than to get, To do unto others As you would have them do unto you Is life's treasure That buys you a ticket to paradise.   ©Walter William Safar      

THE LAND BEYOND THE RAINBOW
You are calling me, road of dreams,
To a land beyond the rainbow,
In which diversity is the harmony of living,
In which hatred is losing the battle against love,
In which a strong spirit is virtue instead of weakness;
You are calling me, road of dreams,
To where reality is conceived from thousands,
Tens of thousands of dreams,
Dreams that feed the soul,
Dreams that nurture the hearts of
Dreamers from all over the world;
You are calling me, road of dreams,
To a wonderful land of dreamers,
But I am tired,
My mornings are different now,
Full of extinguished sparks,
And the scents of weary nights
That lay beside you now,
Just like night birds,
Your weary wanderers,
Whose passion bled
Into life's inexhaustible well.
I admit to you, road of dreams,
I knew that, in this life,
Love makes the most beautiful rainbows,
And so I, your faithful child,
Your lonely wanderer,
Didn't want to stop following the call of the heart,
No matter what.
When the young moon kisses your sacred face,
Oh yes, road of dreams!...
You won't concede to losers,
You are calling me though I'm on my knees,
In other words, you won't accept my surrender!
You are showing me a place beyond the rainbow,
The capital of the dreamers' land,
Where everyone has their place under the sun and the stars,
Where wealth is measured through the spirit, not money,
Where the divine light takes pride in love;
Oh yes, road of dreams,
You are showing me the land of dreamers,
Where there is room for everyone
Who wishes the same to others
As they do to themselves.
And You,
Just like me,
Are dreaming of your star
(Wise people say that everyone has their star)
To banish the nightmares into the turquoise shell
That is wistfully glittering under the heavenly dome.
And my star shines so beautifully,
Handing out its turquoise fliers
Like a heavenly messenger,
That one day my big silent tear
Shall drop onto her palm.
I've been on my knees,
Road of dreams,
Until I heard Your call again,
And I rose to my feet,
Determined
And filled with faith
To run into her embrace.

© Walter William Safar