We stood
calling to Brigid
Asking nothing
for ourselves
But rather
offering to leave
something behind
A soothing balm
Not to replace
But to bring balance
We were told the story
of the sacred stone
now part of
some posh foreigner’s
art collection
To be ripped from the ground
and transported
so far from home
to be possessed
instead of appreciated
honored
shared
Thousands of stories
such as this
Thousands of
bits and pieces
taken
for no other reason
than the assumption
they won’t be missed
So we stood
calling to Brigid
Making an offering
from our hearts
To sooth the pain
To heal the wounds
An attempt to bring balance
For far too much has already
been taken
