I never knew my grandparents
And the thought of them
Leaves me as a child
Hiding shy behind
My mother's skirt.
I do not speak or understand
Their native tongues
I have not followed the long miles
They from far away lands
Travelled in search of work
Or a better life for us
Their children's children.
I think of my grandmothers
Far from their familiar
City paths and cultured lives
The making of lace
And woolen caps
Dying young
In a wilderness
Harsh winter landscape
Beautiful and desolate
They filled with love
And children.
My sweet young parents
With this act of faith
Found a future
Filling their home with love
Sustaining even
My days of now.
Oh hear my words of
Gratitude
My dear departed ones
My treasures from the past.
