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137

A poem

Published on:
November 19, 2018
Read time:
1 min.
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Our sobbing 
pierced the cloudless sky
No words came
only the guttural cries
of abandoned children

Our anguish drew scorn
from our captors
“Fools! 
You’ve been here a lifetime
Don’t tell us you’re homesick now”

Pent-up grief rushed through us
Like a river
swollen with salted rain
swallowing its banks
whole

Their lye-soaked mocking, a dam
“Yeah, tell us you want to go home”
lie-soaked words
“when there’s no home waiting for you”

Oh
     God
     Please
     Act

          God

Gasping

for breath

we remember 

a place we’ve never lived

and we know 

our captors remember 

our home, too

Michelle Van Loon
Michelle Van Loon is the author of five books, including her most recent works, Born To Wander: Recovering the Value of our Pilgrim Identity (Moody Publishers, 2018) and Moments and Days: How Our Holy Celebrations Shape Our Faith (NavPress, 2016). She blogs at michellevanloon.com and theperennialgen.com.

Cover photo by Nout Gons.

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