They’re Not Ours, Are They?

They are not ours, are they? So why should we care?

Watch them, huddled together, tear stained cheeks and reddened eyes full of fear and pain…but then you think, they aren’t ours, are they?

Feel their fear, their worry, their sadness. See them look around frantically for their parents, wondering who will care for them now. But again, that thought: they aren’t ours, are they?

Stand aside and whisper to your friends, “If they only had come here legally…” because they aren’t ours, are they?

Sit at your table and look at your children and smile, secure in the fact that you are safe, they are safe. Go to your churches and worship at the altar of peace and brotherly love, then cast your eyes askance at those who are different, foreign… silent judgement on your lips and heart. They aren’t like me. If only they had come here legally…..

” Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. ” What ever happened to brotherly love? What ever happened to helping those who can’t help themselves? What ever happened to compassion?

It has been lost….lost to nationalist rhetoric, to unnecessary pride, to hate, to ego. It has been lost….and the righteous fight to regain all that has been lost has only just begun.


Walking through life with the weight of the world upon my shoulders.

Pushing to break free from the chains of shame that bind me to my past.

To my mistakes.

To my fear.

To the constant threat of being found an impostor in my own skin.

I am not perfect.

But I will walk with shoulders back, eyes forward, chin lifted.

A silent, yet physical protest to the devils in my head,

whispering their words of guilt-inducing discouragement.

I will continue to try to live my life as I want to.

I will continue on.






In the vastness of this land

I walked alone




Stumbling over obstacles as I searched for meaning in the dust

Your heart’s fire was a beacon

Your soul’s light was a signal

Calling to my starving spirit

Beckoning me home

Your warmth a comfort

Your touch nourishment

Your words the water to satisfy my thirst

I found what I was searching for in the dry, unforgiving dust

With you, I am alive

With you, I flourish



Sweet scents tickle the nose

tempting young souls to pick their source

Warm, soft air swirls

freshly cut grass

salty spray and sand

earthy dirt clinging to shirts, shoes, and little hands

Splashing and squeals from turquoise pools

Breezes carry laughter and music to neighboring homes

night time gatherings around the bonfire

lightening bugs in a jar

star gazing in a field

sparkling celebrations

Summer is here