Migrants all over the world are pushed and pulled across borders by hunger, terror and climate change. It happened to my own family.
Our dreams must be stronger than our memories. We must be pulled by our dreams, rater than pushed by our memories.
One night, I lay awake for hours, just terrified. When the dawn finally came up – the comfortable blue sky, the familiar world returning – I could think of no other way to express my relief than through poetry. I made a decision there and then that it was what I wanted to do. Every time I pulled a wishbone, it was what I asked for.