Written in Collaboration with the wonderful poet, Jennifer Kwon Dobbs, tenor vocalist William George and pianist Corey Hamm.
Performed at the Song Launch, as part of the Queer Arts Festival 2016 for Art Song Lab 2016.
lyrics
Alan Kurdî (2013-2015)
Seaweed followed the law. It released you
to waves bussing your small body
down, down dark currents, silver
minnow tunnel. Your red shirt swallowed
the Aegean, billowed and swelled,
but your shoes stayed on. By them the sea
knew your refuge dream, restored you to shore
so your father Abdullah could find you,
a guest of the sea. Without guests
all houses would be a grave, the poet wrote
making a worm from mist, a bird from sand.
What prayer transforms this empty
castle guards watch, ignorant of the gift
to shelter each other? Who will help
close, open, close your velcro laces
for the journey your father dares
for your sake? You, a gift loved with milk
cake and honey. You, names altered
to keep you safe—not Mohammed, Jesus.
Not Muslim, Christian. Hush
don’t bother now as white tourists gather
multiplying your image on their little screens
to console each other. You are not their orphan
of beach foam, Alan flag bearer
watching from the lap of God.