When I heard today that the Pope took 12 Syrian refugees home from the Island of Lesbos
He invoked the words of Mother Theresa
We ourselves feel that what we are doing is just a drop in the ocean. But the ocean would be less because of that missing drop.
Forget the apostles, tomorrow I'm taking 13!
I don't know what the Pope intends
But I will break the bread with these refugees and one day hope
These victims of war can forget man's brutality in favour of
Spreading the gospel of Art and Love
Then I got a call on the phone, it was the Pope who told me that
Balancing the world's interests has always been an act reserved for the Astute Acrobat
Only a few can see advantages upside down
Taking home 12 or 13 didn't matter
And I could swear he said this with a frown
"My eyes are lucid" said the Pope to my outreaching ears
"And to stretch out and shake hands of adults and children
That others seem to vilify takes little effort and few tears"
When he hung up I thought it but a daydream
Only the news flashed again reminding me of those intense faces, full of hope and anxiety
Yet I was feeling anxious as well
I knew this was not the first or last refugee crisis
In the l680s Louis XIV kicked some 200,000 Huguenots out of France
Just because they were Protestant
And even in earlier times if you belonged to a clan and
You were different
A male unable to hunt
A female unable to weave
Consequences were rude
Was it possible that modern society's humanitarian drains of empathy were clogged?
Was it possible that our uplifting spirit was fading into a smog?
Was it possible that our ocean couldn't care for "that missing drop"?