Click below to listen to the narration:
sing of the land where the long rivers meet…where the crown of the shield feels the pulse of the street…for the country is drawn on a trembling seam…and the stones remember what the maps dare dream…in the wheat bound plains where the wind runs wide…the towns and the fields take opposing side…for the ballots fall like the prairie rain…and the grain and the skyline speak not the same…hear the hammering heart of the city bright…crying out for a name in the boundary fight…medicine hat stands firm in the dust…for a voice of its own is a civic trust…beneath every roof where the cold winds roam…the first keepers call for a rightful home…for the lodges are few and the winters long…yet the oldest earth still shapes the song…the cartographer’s quill draws a trembling mark…through the daylight plains and the forests dark…for the borders move like a restless tide…and the people within them must now decide…canada forged of the bright and the bare…of the crowded street and the northern air…though the cracks may widen from coast to coast…it is seam and fracture that bind us most…