We live in a land where the footprints of ghosts linger

Where they sound softly on the sands of our shores

Traversing across seas to find a land and a home

Once settled, they began to build a culture

A civilization that grew with each family

Filled with dance, stories, and sharp ships

They crossed the seas to trade with other lands, other homes.

Then greed began to grow in lands from the North

Who needed more wealth, more workers, more space

They came with their guns and their cannons

To destroy or to educate minds in their own images

Slowly withering civilzations rooted in the earth

Olive trees, the children of the land,

shook their leaves in fear

As bulldozers approached

Trying to erase an identity that was

Thousands of years

Old.

But what they failed to understand is that

We live in a land where the footprints of ghosts linger

And their stories and cautionary tales

Retold from one generation to the next

Could not be erased

Not with guns, planes or bulldozers

Stories remain in the hearts of so many now

Poured into everything we do

To honor the land where the footprints linger

And to protect other lands hidden under shadows of the North.