The Outsider

The Outsider

Covid has closed the Inn, there is no room:
A child is born under the shadow of doom;
Refugees, come so very far on a long road,
Seeking only sanctuary and a safe abode;
But the cold wind bites, rain beating down:
Some so desperate that they will drown
Seeking a safe harbour. Outcasts on earth,
So very far and distant the Yuletide mirth
No feast here, no presents, and no home
Long did they travail, long did they roam
In the end, what is left: a makeshift shack
And the end for now of a hazardous track
Across seas, and frozen earth, barbed wire
No respite, no hearth, and warming fire
But here heaven touches earth so near
And the angels sing out: do not fear
A camp in Calais, or Yemen: the place
Where God now shows his loving face.