I am here

And following on from my previous post... Having struggled to put into words my experience of St Chad's Sanctuary, I wondered if poetry might express it better. I don't know quite what I was aiming at, but it turned into this, written as if from the perspective of an asylum seeker. I'm not sure, really, I have the right to write from the perspective of an asylum seeker, after all, what would I know? But with that proviso, and in the hope that those who have lived the experience for real would understand that I hope to express something in support of them, not belittle their experiences, here it is:

I am here

And in amongst

The cold grey concrete

Is a silence

Which does not sing

Like the warm red dust

Of home

That offered hope

That does not seem

So golden as it looked

When glimpsed

From in amongst

My shattered

war torn

Home

And will you look

And try to see

That I am me

Just me

Or will you turn

Your eyes away

From all I’ve lived

And loved

And lost

And will you hear

My children’s tears

For what they hoped

And dared to dream

That cannot be

Or will you turn

Your ears away

From faltered words

That cannot say

All I have brought

And wish to

Give

And all is cold

So cold

As I stand hunched

Against harsh grey skies

And biting wind

And bitter, angry fear

Until

You hold

A hand out to me

And speak

A whispered breath

Of warmth

And welcome

When you notice

That I

Just I

I am here