leanin' H
Well-known member
Legacy
It was better than 100 years ago, that my family first came west,
to settle the edge of the desert, and live in the land God had blest.
They came to a land full of struggle, from Holland, way across the sea.
But they built and they bled and they died and they loved, here in the land of the free.
This land must of been so different, with the heat and the dust and the snow.
Cactus blooms replaced pretty tulips. Cows and gardens they struggled to grow.
But they planted the seeds and prayed for rain, and carved out a spot for a home.
Nursed black willow trees that stand til this day, a monument more perfect than stone.
They raised good Hereford cattle and they raised up a legacy too.
They cared for the land and followed thier dreams, under west desert sky so blue.
The years have passed and most of them now, rest from the cares of the earth.
The ranch that they built and loved so much, has slowly lessened in worth.
It was passed down from hand to hand, one generation to another.
Slowly and sadly divided up, by cousins and even brothers.
Sure, the house still stands and the trees grow tall, but the welcome has gone away.
And some, like me, have shed more than one tear and are left without words to say.
Those that now own it, i am sure love it so. They alone possess sacred ground.
While i simply have all of my memories, and the story i hope to pass down.
That's not to say ranching blood ceases to run, through my heart and my veins and my soul.
The link isn't broken, still stronger than steel, like the bond between mare and foal.
While the ground may be gone to another, my own dreams still give cause for hope.
As i build for my kids a foundation, cows to gather and horses to lope.
You won't find me sitting here feeling sorry, for the things i may not possess.
I still have claim to thier legacy, every step that i take, every breath,
every drop of sweat, every ounce of blood, every laugh, every smile, every ache.
I am thankful to follow thier footsteps, regardless the pathway i take.
I will work hard to build my own place. I'll be greatfull for having the chance.
And i'll never forget what they gave me, but you won't see it in just a quick glance.
Unless you come ride beside me, building corrals, packin' salt, planting trees.
Look past the few cows and the sagebrush, and just listen to a soft desert breeze.
You might find yourself hearing thier voices, when the noise of the day dies down.
And you stand at the gate checking cattle, out here far from the lights of town.
Where my wife and i choose to plant our roots, our little outfit's just starting to grow.
Where we try to honor thier memory and the lifestyle they loved so.
This is my spot where God put me. All i build someday might turn to dust.
But the love, the legacy, will forever live! Of that i know and i trust.
2011
leanin' H
Darrell Holden
It was better than 100 years ago, that my family first came west,
to settle the edge of the desert, and live in the land God had blest.
They came to a land full of struggle, from Holland, way across the sea.
But they built and they bled and they died and they loved, here in the land of the free.
This land must of been so different, with the heat and the dust and the snow.
Cactus blooms replaced pretty tulips. Cows and gardens they struggled to grow.
But they planted the seeds and prayed for rain, and carved out a spot for a home.
Nursed black willow trees that stand til this day, a monument more perfect than stone.
They raised good Hereford cattle and they raised up a legacy too.
They cared for the land and followed thier dreams, under west desert sky so blue.
The years have passed and most of them now, rest from the cares of the earth.
The ranch that they built and loved so much, has slowly lessened in worth.
It was passed down from hand to hand, one generation to another.
Slowly and sadly divided up, by cousins and even brothers.
Sure, the house still stands and the trees grow tall, but the welcome has gone away.
And some, like me, have shed more than one tear and are left without words to say.
Those that now own it, i am sure love it so. They alone possess sacred ground.
While i simply have all of my memories, and the story i hope to pass down.
That's not to say ranching blood ceases to run, through my heart and my veins and my soul.
The link isn't broken, still stronger than steel, like the bond between mare and foal.
While the ground may be gone to another, my own dreams still give cause for hope.
As i build for my kids a foundation, cows to gather and horses to lope.
You won't find me sitting here feeling sorry, for the things i may not possess.
I still have claim to thier legacy, every step that i take, every breath,
every drop of sweat, every ounce of blood, every laugh, every smile, every ache.
I am thankful to follow thier footsteps, regardless the pathway i take.
I will work hard to build my own place. I'll be greatfull for having the chance.
And i'll never forget what they gave me, but you won't see it in just a quick glance.
Unless you come ride beside me, building corrals, packin' salt, planting trees.
Look past the few cows and the sagebrush, and just listen to a soft desert breeze.
You might find yourself hearing thier voices, when the noise of the day dies down.
And you stand at the gate checking cattle, out here far from the lights of town.
Where my wife and i choose to plant our roots, our little outfit's just starting to grow.
Where we try to honor thier memory and the lifestyle they loved so.
This is my spot where God put me. All i build someday might turn to dust.
But the love, the legacy, will forever live! Of that i know and i trust.
2011
leanin' H
Darrell Holden
