Jasmine sweetens the air
A whisper of the sun
As uneasy feet shuffle
In the dark clutch of frightened night

The winds of war scatter souls
To the far reaches of the world
As a small hand tugs at worn fabric, asking
“Mama, where is home?”

Her skin smells of jasmine
Her voice like the breezy dawn
A spark delivers comfort
And lights the unknown road

The winds of war scatter souls
To the far reaches of the world
As a small hand tugs at worn fabric, asking
“Mama, where is home?”