Far from home long gone
Destroyed by the cruel flood
It took all dear they hold
Loved ones, property and joy

Now amidst towering coconut trees,
With three or few tottering Leaves
‘Neath them are shanties made
By hands trembling and wounded.

But then their hearts full of hope
Albeit reeling in pain
They strive in utter suffering
To stand against the winds.

Alone it seems they are
Set on a hill strange and new
A place not of their own
But in God’s grace survive.

Such are their lives now
Always waiting for good hands
To extend both love and warmth
Hoping in time, to stand.

Weakened by fate, they’re strong
They mourn their loss, yet bold
Feeling God’s hold, they move on
On their own and brethren’s boon