Migration Poems - Poems about Migration

GEESE WITH MOON ON THEIR WINGS-Wings of Farewell

GEESE WITH MOON ON THEIR WINGS 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
gentle autumn breeze murmurs
summer’s farewell song
geese with moonlight on their wings
in flight and headstrong
across stellar sky
their honks a gentle refrain
never asking why

REPATRIATION

I left with a bag of dreams
and a heart full of hope.
The roads were wide
but none felt like home.

I spoke in borrowed voices
slept under unfamiliar skies.
Smiled through winters
that never thawed my bones.

But something kept pulling
a voice, a scent, a song.
A name I once answered to
still waiting where I belong.

Now I return, not empty
but carrying what

The Weight of Elsewhere 'Part One'

Letters from Borrowed Ground
'Part One'

---

To: Myself (Three Years Ago)  
Date: Every Night  
Status: Never Finished  
Focus: Warning

Dear Dreamer,

Tonight, I dig up buried footsteps,
each stone beneath my feet heavy with goodbye.
The coffee grows cold in my cup
as I write this at 3 AM,
watching snow fall on a street
whose name I still can't pronounce.

You

Beyond the Paper Gate

Now you stand at the threshold of shadowed trials—
a challenge cloaked in whispers of what may come.
Debts awaken, ancient scribes of your past,
etching secrets into the walls where you once stood.

More debts rise to start anew,
in lands where shadows whisper and command—
money prowls with hungry eyes,
blind to your status, deaf to the paper gate’s cries.

Unyielding,

HOPE OR LOST?

With smiles they waved goodbye
barefoot on the soil that raised them
carrying nothing but names
and the weight of dreams too heavy for home.

They spoke of Europe
like it was morning on the other side of night
and more prayers than food.

Is this hope?
To trade the peace of home for a foreign land?
Or is it loss
leaving love behind for

Lines in the Dust

In the summer heat of '47's cry,
A line was drawn beneath the sky.
Not ink, but blood, not words, but flame—
Two nations born, but none the same.

Fields once golden, shared with grace,
Now whispered names in a stranger’s place.
Neighbors turned to fleeing feet,
Homes abandoned, hearts incomplete.

The Ganga wept, the Indus roared,
As trains of silence onward soared.
One carried

Fall

Cooler breezes give us relief from the stifling heat,
A signal autumn is coming, and summer is in full retreat.

Leaves on the trees turn yellow, orange, red and brown,
As the days grow shorter, they eventually find their way to the ground.

As temperatures continue to cool, animals prepare for the cold months ahead,
Birds, reptiles, and mammals make

Monarch butterfly

Beloved monarch or milkweed butterfly,                            Your migration may mystify,                   

My Missing Piece

Searching outside of myself
Far and wide
Looking into the eyes and souls of others
Seeking answers 
Looking for my missing part
Always sensing an absence

Awakening one day with tears in my eyes
A complete realization
I had found my missing piece
Or rather 
My missing piece had found me

Silent warm tears streamed down my cheeks
An inner heat grew in my belly
My

Migration

Complex and profound,
The many forms of migration,
Each resonates and weighs differently....

The migration before famine,
After the harvest,
They are not the same...

The migration from oppression,
And that clandestine flight,
Across guarded frontiers...

The migration of cultures,
And of traditions and tongues?
And identities unsettled so fragile...

The migration from familiarity,
After a community,
Has been dismantled...,

That poignant migration,
Your story is interwoven with mine,
In our collective

The migration of birds

Samantha, my cat, put on her glasses
and sat by the tv today..
Besides being cute she's very astute
at keeping winter blues at bay..
When she can't find her pen, she'll
turn on CNN and see what their
commentators say,
but it's really not her turf so other
channels she'd surf, until she saw some thing okay..
Samantha found the Migration of Birds

Avian Migration - Anacreontic Couplets

Grey clouds are hovering near.
Winter's chill will soon be here.
Avian are taking flight,
pausing to roost for the night,
but only for a brief time
then on to a warmer clime.
Flocks fly on fine feathered wing,
migrating, they trill and sing.
To return in spring to nest.
At journey's end they will rest
before baby chicks arrive,
so the species will survive.

Wild Geese At Dawn

Canadian Geese flying south
and trucks on the highway
jostle for space
in my ears.

The trucks remind me of where I am
in time and place,
while the geese remind me of a lifetime
of here and nows
present, with the wonder
of simply being.

The geese moving with the seasons,
following shifting pathways
of water and crops,
honk as they go;
“Here we are, here we go!
All

An Alien Migration

Aliens have recently taken over my mind
They're a friendly lot, they are
Obsessed by the pretty women we have
And the love of our fancy cars

They say they're thinking of migrating
Warned them it's not a bed of roses
Got a bunch of yahoos running the show
Amazing the problems it poses

Many of us live in the lap of luxury
Others

Daily Migration

spotted         sky              dotted

this cacophony of crows

a murder                   plotted

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• Long Migration Poems
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