life as seen by children a gunshot and the journey of a dream

life as seen by children
 a gunshot and the journey of a dream

life as seen by children
a gunshot and the pathway of a dream

April 4, 1968 Memphis Tennessee
April 4, 1999 Birmingham Alabama
a gunshot and the journey of a dream
life as seen by children
life explained by the children to the grown-up

In Birmingham, Alabama in a project called Gate City, where my family and I with other volunteers were trying to help those in need,  among the people abandoned to their fate there was also little Taisha.

Taisha spent with us in the parish youth center every afternoon, as other  hundreds of boys, girls and children from the age of six and on.
Most of them had no one at home, no one took care of them until the evening, and the evenings, the nights in Gate City were not very quiet, it was not a cradle of peace and serenity.

Gate City, a suburb of Birmingham Alabama, made outskirts and road junctions, shopping malls and super markets, monuments of an illusory consumer richness and discounted happiness and nothing more.
Suburbs equal to many other suburbs of any provincial towns  in the U.S.,
 behind the hills and the biggest advertising signs, very well hidden there were neighbourhoods like Gate City where the parish was located.
The name defined well the reality around, Gate City, city of gates ,fences and barriers
and those who lived in Gate City, felt like so, imprisoned, isolated, chained to poverty in the center of the empire, in the middle of the richest country in the world.

In Birmingham, Alabama in the a project called Gate City, among the people abandoned to their fate there was also little Taisha, 
every day after school Taisha stopped at the Youth Center and with homework, games and activities she spent a few peaceful hours before returning home to a usual night of uncertainty  and fear

that day in April, Taisha and I were sitting on the bench next to of the baseball field
the boys played another endless game led by Coach the big boss, the chief of the youth center.

I war reading aloud the title of the local newspaper that in big letters remembered the tragic event that occurred 31 years earlier, on April 4, 1968 "On that day a gunshot stopped the journey of a dream .."
I read aloud and little Taisha suddenly stopped me, and shouted
"No way , there is no way that a shotgun can stop a dream, no there is not a single chance in the world that a shotgun can stop a dream on his way !"

No, it is possible that a gunshot can stop the journey of a dream, of th egreatest dream of all! 

a gunshot and the journey of a dream
my heart is restless, frenetically beating and a gospel is rumbling in my head
rumbling in my head

the pain is still immense and the wound is deep 
and there is no song or poem that cna soothe the suffering and confusion
many years have passed since that sad day of April
when the One who had the greatest dream of all was taken away
was taken away

a gunshot and the journey of a dream
my heart is restless, frenetically beating and a gospel is rumbling 
rumbling in my head

Memphis Tennessee that morning of a distant early spring day
a gunshot tore his body and the blood run like a river in flood
a gunshot that put an end to his journey on this earth
and opened the doors to his greatest dream
and opened the doors to his greatest dream
your greatest dream

a gunshot and the pathway of a dream
my heart is restless, frenetically beating and a gospel is rumbling 
rumbling in my head

the pain is still immense and the wound is deep 
and there is no song or poem that can ease the suffering and the confusion
a gunshot, a thousand tears  into wind and a lifeless body on the ground
a lifeless body on the ground

a gunshot and the journey of a dream
my heart is restless, frenetically beating and a gospel is rumbling 
rumbling in my head

in your memory and with pain in my heart today we look at the stars in the skies
every breath is a gunshot, it is an arrow stuck inside inside inside
today we will go down to the streets we will be millions and milions
we will go down to the streets and walk the way to your greatest dream we will walk the way to your greatest dream
to your greatest dream 

let us join hands we are the all same and we are all different 
we are millions, we are the loads of colours and faces of the new world

a gunshot and the journey of a dream
my heart is restless, frenetically beating and a gospel is rumbling 
rumbling in my head

a gunshot that day has torn and destroyed your body
but our millions hands joined together will build your dream
our million joined hands on the roads of the world
will bond like a chain of hope and sing your name
sing your name again and again
 again and again and again

a gunshot and the journey of a dream
my heart is restless, frenetically beating and a gospel is rumbling 
rumbling in my head

day by day without fear or indecision we will build your dream
never alone again brother man never alone again sister woman never alone or divided our children
never alone again brother man never alone again sister woman never alone or divided our children
never alone or divided our children, our children will play all together and happy on this earth
in the blossoming garden of your greatest dream 
in the blossoming garden of your greatest dream

a gunshot and the journey of a dream
my heart is restless, frenetically beating and a gospel is rumbling 
rumbling in my head

a gunshot and the pathway of a dream
today the heart is in my throat and a gospel is rumbling in my head
the pain is still immense and the would is still deep 
and there is no song or poem that can pacify the suffering and the confusion

April 4, 1968 Memphis Tennessee
April 4, 1999 Birmingham Alabama
a gunshot and the journey of a dream
life as seen by children
life explained by the children to the grown-up

sitting on a bench next to little Taisha
listening carefully to your words that I want to record forever in my mind and my  heart
listening and rewriting your words Taisha with anxiety and fear of forgetting them one day
just like writing on a piece of paper with an old and blunt pencil
listening with determination  to fix everything
in my heart forever
just like when you press with strength on a sheet of paper
with a blunt pencil to write down some important notes 
something that you have fear of not being able to read again one day

a bullet can not stop a dream, explains Taisha to me 
and the pain will never win on his greatest dream
his dream is alive and after the night of grief and anger
will return again and forever the day of feast
again and forever will arrive the day of celebration!

today my heart is restless, frenetically beating and a gospel is rumbling 
rumbling in my head

I know that the dream is alive and the day of celebration will come back again 

dreams live beyond every bullet, every wound and every tear

children teach us that just a couple o roller skates as wings and a music in your head
is enough to fly over every dark night, over every grief and anger
Taisha I think of you and I imagine you grown-up next to your daughter
telling ancient legends of fierce tribes in the African bush

The memory moves me, I take a deep breath and I think
that if you have not lost you hope after so many dark nights of pain and anger,
I have no right to cry misery that I've lived a few sleepless nights

my heart is restless, frenetically beating, a gospel is rumbling and he memory takes me back away
In Birmingham, Alabama, someone still has a dream
someone still believes and prays that after the night of anger and fear
the light will come again in the morning and in a endless feast we will sing forever in joy 
we will sing forever in joy and peace
in joy and peace

Marco Bo

Dedicated to Martin Luther King, to Taisha to all the friends of Gate City and to all those who walk with hope towards the greatest dream


"I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the colour of their skin but by the content of their character. I have a dream today!"
Martin Luther King 


picture from the Web



http://cantidallaperiferiadelmondo.blogspot.it/2013/04/la-vita-vista-dai-bambini-un-colpo-di.html