What did they leave behind?

We have no history here.

One generation. Two generations,

Not time enough to lay down roots.

This land is new, too new

To grow the seeds of lineage

And weave a tale that tells a story,

A story that ends too soon, too soon.

We must go back and cross the bridge

Our lines ventured with such daring,

Knowing full well what they left behind

To seek ourselves the tales, if we can.

Such disservice to cut those ties

And leave their future sons and daughters

With soil so thin and barren.

They were wise who thought to leave

A trail that pointed home across the water.

Heritage, they gave us heritage,

A story we could tell over and again

To feed our roots and nourish our pride

Till this new land grows soil enough

To feed our need for history.

So tell me tales of long ago,

From long before where generations

Stretch into the mists

So that I may tell them and retell them

Until this land becomes our home.