BLUE---
As far as the eye could see.
The colour had swallowed us for so many months
We forgot about the others: brown, green, red, and gold.
GOLD---
A speck on the horizon smaller than a grain of sand.
And with the dip of the boat it is gone.
Was it my imagination?
I stare out over the blue,
Wondering if I am mad.
But the speck comes back,
Bigger this time.
And as the gold grows from a speck to something more,
Calls fly out over the bow:
“I think I see it! Look! Over there!”
Passengers lean over the rail,
And as they squint an arm appears.
A golden arm that is more to me than just a piece of metal.
It is the arm that frees me from my past,
The hand that offers me a second chance,
The country that begins
My new life.