Refugee Poem by Jay L. Morris

Born from the womb a refugee, a tiny speck of flesh,
Grateful Mother had built no walls.

I wonder who is not a refugee as well, and decide we all are.
Though many are fervent deniers, resisting the simplest truths,
And who knew compassion would suddenly end...abruptly, coldly,
As a sudden bitter snow.
Reality seems to be unwilling to be of any comfort.

I hold myself on the shoulders and shiver to realize,
There is no path home for me, and little refuge nor rest.

And I long for my Father's embrace.