why …
wondering why
synapses fire
even though
spirits
bodies
minds
tire
still synapses fire
wondering why
i miss you
your presence
your being entire
even though
life drags us
through its quagmire
of that
all of this
still synapses fire
still wondering why
it is you
whom i miss …
an immigrants lament …
gazing at the sky
i often wonder why,
birds soaring,
high in the open sky,
are free to fly ?
is it that they have wings,
for i too have wings, friend,
so,
i often wonder why,
huddled against desolate sleet,
and,
i often wonder why,
buried under flimsy newspapersheet,
that i too have wings, friend,
i too have wings!
it is just that
my little wings,
are my tired
little feet …
_____________
(photograph of a Danish border guard playing with a Syrian girl)
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