Lead Me to the Place

I come to touch your stone.
I run my hand along the words
I place my fingers in the carving
of the letters of your name.
I stand here next to where
you were laid to rest
in eighteen hundred ninety-one.
I lean my head against your stone.

I am the daughter of Marie,
who was the daughter of Elizabeth,
who was the daughter of your Margaret
the one who was your very own.
Grandmother dear, doubly great,
I carry your name, you who came
across the waters from the Holy Ground.
I cry to be close to your bones,

Ellen I am calling on you,
I am paying my respects.
Guide me from the other side
so I know I do not stand alone,
but come from the strength of women
in ancestral line unbroken.
Lead me to the place
where you were born.

For your Grandmother blessing, I ask
to walk where you walked in Ireland.
so I can feel your footsteps
through the delicate curtain of time.
I know that you are closer to me
than the bones long buried here.
Through your imprint in my genes, please,
whisper the name of your birthplace.

©Susa Silvermarie 2026