Where are you now?

Syrian children in Zaatari refugee camp, the largest in the world in northern Jordan in 2014

WHERE ARE YOU NOW?

Your face stares back at me child.
Dreams swirl in the ether between you and I
of a life free of tyranny and fire.
From behind this fence you must get away
but where will you go?
Anywhere, somewhere, far from this fray.
Out of this displaced maze and the world’s gaze
to a home safe and peaceful
because bombs and missiles are neither.

In a moment the bones of truth laid bare
so thoroughly blatantly there.
A fence separates but never divides you and I
together under the heat of a blue middle east sky.
And I ask myself, for God’s sake why?
The hot wind blows fine white dust into every line
into our mouths, our eyes, each life entwined.
What good is a camera in this place when you cry?

Where are you now?
Still stranded, stateless, speechless, spent
in a foreign place in a white hot tent?
While men in suits on the TV are just talking heads
and children stare back
at least the ones who aren’t dead.
People not animals despite what the man on the news cycle said.
Was that you on the screen, your head concealed by a blanket
under a sign that read ‘Port of Entry’
while men in suits kept sentry?

Lights extinguish, leaflets fall from dangerous skies with leaders lies.
Then bombs boom, missiles fly and now children die.
War is not you or I.
It is dark men in dark suits.
Can we make them go away
with their bigotry, guns and boots?
And I wonder where are you now?
Where is everyone now?
I’m sorry I only have questions.  

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