a sacred fire burned, invited me into it.
This land
I grew up on, told to thank the creator for it.
But now my heart burns
warm by the fire
with thanks for those
who never knew me, or I them,
who never consented to the land they had to hand over
to me,
and now instead of palm closed
they open hand draw me
into the fire,
onto the land,
our sacred home.
What do I have to give back?
Only me
it seems,
and my fuel for our fire.
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