They walked this land before us.
They lived, suffered and worked until they
        became part of this land they loved.
       They were warm hands, thoughts and dreams
       Sometimes never known, to even be forgotten,
        to be even a memory
       Their small space in time is significant and real,
        as is mine
       There is a trail that leads to a light of
        understanding and recognition
        Items touched, worked, forged, spoken,
        I can hear your hushed whispers getting louder
         and I follow the path
        I will find you,
        And I will remember you,
        You are history
        You are ancestor.
        You are acknowledged
        You are our foundation.

Theresa Reihana