Simoom*, desert wind
from ravaged realms
through spacious skies
bear every sacred grain
to enduring fields
where amber waves
root in the fruited plain
sweet mercy nourish
shed its grace on thee
reveal our good
through brotherhood
from wasteland
to the sea.

WE ARE ALL REFUGEES    2

We're not laughing when we're born
Or when we die,
We mourn and we cry
When we're born and when we die,
Yes, we mourn and we cry,
When we're born and when we die

We are all refugees running across  the Sea.
Everyone is running,
You, and me,
Trying to find a place
That's safe, and secure,
Where the air and the  water
And the people are pure,  

We keep on running away,
From every thing that causes pain,
Yes, we keep on running away,
From every thing that causes pain

We're not laughing when we're born
Or when we die,
We mourn and we cry
When we're born and when we die,
Yes, we mourn and we cry,
When we're born and when we die

In between we laugh a lot,
Sitting in the sand
By the sea of reality,
Surfing waves when they come,
One by one,  when they come,
On the sea of reality..
Every day we play,
And we surf on the waves,
In the Sea Of Reality.

On the beach, as we go, we should know,
Underneath there's an  undertow.  
On the sea, as we go, we should know,
Underneath, there's an undertow.
Down below, an undertow,
We should know.  

Sean Hunt
Windermere January 7th 2016

We are all Perpetual Refugees
Crossing the perilous Sea
Of Reality

Do we laugh when we are born?
Do we laugh when we die?

We do laugh in between
While we play in the waves
In the constantly changing Sea
Of Reality

Every day we play
And we surf
Those dangerous waves
In the constantly changing Sea
Of Reality

Though we should really know
And pay attention to
The undertow

Sean Hunt
Windermere Jan 4th 2016

Each one handmade and held together with hope
From shore to shore each containing a note
Broken and flooded not all will survive
Their pieces find rest with salinity and die
With luck and good will others arrive
Please open and read them between the LInES
For when you look close the message is same
Within; a teardrop, blood clot, and ragged remains
Is inscribed a pleading for help, please be human(e)s  
You may retain or refuse the option is yours
yet for me their treasure is reveled with embrace
and when opened I relate and savor their tastes
to my bottled up world that has just yet been before displaced

Syrian pilgrims on boats of hope
Finding no place to land
No one to lend them a hand
No Plymouth Rock to throw rope
How can Republicans cope?

They believe this land is their's
Exclusively, for a Macy's parade
A big balloon with man in stockade
Thanking themselves, saying prayers
Really just showing no one cares

Blaming it on religious beliefs
Though zealots they are themselves
Confusing truer issues as well
Where have gone the Indian chiefs?
To Mexico forced by Trump's police

when Americans are more concerned about who they let into
"their"
country
then they are about what kind of junk the put into their
bodies
is when i get concerned for the people as a nation.
because if Americans are more frightened by something they only
think they know about because of slander they see on
facebook
then they are of the growing darkness of the country as a whole
then
i guess
we're alot worse off then i realized

First they came for the Muslims, and I did not speak out
-I was not Muslim

Then they came for the refugees, and I did not speak out
-I was not a refugee

Then they came for me- and there was no one left to speak for me.

How can we eat while others starve?
How can we sleep at night while others don't have a place to sleep?
How can we deny help facing those who lost everything?
Saying we don't have the funds
Yet we waste food and money.
Locking out those who are desperate for help
Closing our eyes
On which point did humanity die?

it's looking into the horror-filled eyes of a four year old girl
holding her shaking hands

as she watches her father, her mother
blown to smithereens

it's the family of five
reduced to three

it's the grandmother of fifteen, who is over filled with love
now that she only has six to share it between

it's the cousins, brothers, aunts
packed into a tiny sail boat

who are we to deny the happiness of those who don't think they'll ever be happy again?

who are we to turn away the freedom of people who believe they will never be freed?