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.