Roots

I wrote this poem in early spring 2024, for a candle lit vigil to commemorate the genocide in Palestine, and to remember those suffering through all wars around the world.

It's spring,

Saint Brigid's day,

A tale of a woman retold through the ages,

interpreted in many ways

- but always a hero, a symbol of hope,

a person who upset the status quo.

For her we hang the fabrics on trees,

and on days like these,

we think about those who are not here.

Women like Brigid but who live in fear,

protecting their children, their land,

and because of our own history we now stand

(today and always)

and say “ceasefire now!”,

even when it feels hopeless.

It's spring.

And we rise,

because everything else is a failure.

We speak up for the voiceless,

because those who come here should feel safe here.

Ireland for all,

no matter how small,

you are welcome - You are home.

It's spring, and there is growth.

There is life.

From the shamrock to the olive tree,

from the river to the sea:

We will continue to scream "no more",

to create and sow –

Death passes through the door,

but we opened a window.

Louth for Palestine - Facebook