• Tony Frobisher

The Language of Clouds

The Language of Clouds

Borderless, wind drifters.

Across the divide they look

Up to the drifting white;

The cloud journeys begin,

Unhindered by man's obstinance.

Undisturbed by man's chaos.

Unnoticed by man's violence.

Unprepared for the cries below,

Carry us with you!

We seek only that which you have.

Freedom and silence,

Anonymity and presence.

The clouds spill great saddening raindrops;

Yet, it is the safest water they will touch.

The rain falls, absorbed

In skin that darkens,

Soaked with fear.

Oh clouds!

Will you greet us on the other side,

And what language will you speak?


I have stood many times upon the White Cliffs of Dover and gazed across to the clear shoreline of France, a mere 21 miles away. Tangible, almost touchable.

I know there are many, lost, desperate, willing to risk everything and cross the English Channel in a flimsy dinghy. They will have gazed across towards England's shoreline and wondered if they will set foot upon it.

And the clouds above will drift unstoppable between our two lands, our two different worlds with an indifference.

How fortunate we are to be on this side of the water watching the clouds venture across to where the refugees cling to hope.

#refugees #refugeecrisis #migration #humanity #people #life #refugeeswelcome

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