“On October 2014, 400 people sank in a boat 70 miles off Lampedusa on the Mediterranean sea. Many were Syrian refugees seeking a haven from the political conflict, violence and poverty that occupied their homeland. A few seek sanctuary in the EU, but EU countries are determined to keep them out. Every year, hundreds of people die trying to reach Europe.” –Amnesty International
This poem is about those who never made it to shore.
Trust in the power of God, my love
He will guide the hungry, the poor, the masses with no place to call home
Corroded iron hearts will start to melt, the wicked will no longer make you stir
Staring at the blood puddles of your brothers and sisters have made your soul weary, your eyes vacant
I know you are getting impatient darling, but just wait a little longer
Is it true that the borders are lined with dead bodies? Is that why we are travelling by sea, Daddy?
We are quietly slipping out of the cusp of death
The currents mimic the rhythm of God’s breathing, he is carrying us to safety
That lighthouse off in the distance, It is a rotating reassurance
We are almost there
The boat is sinking. She grips onto a plank with all the strength her little arms can muster
Where is her father? His faces submerges from the water, and she cries out in relief
With cupped palms and an unsaid promise of never letting go
They swim for hours, achy bones and exasperated lungs taunting
But they swim on
With wrinkled skin and cold body temperatures,
The thread of fate is cut and dances around them
As they sink to their final resting place
God opens its lucid arms and recollects their bodies.