| Before the time of mapped out nations people thrived here on this soil. | |
| They all shared a common bond, a mix of mind or blood or soul. | |
| Degrees and minutes inked in something that these people never knew. | |
| Lines and fences, walls and crossings would not fit their point of view. | |
| All throughout these early ages people split then merged again. | |
| Drawn away in search of something, blown back home by shifting winds. | |
| Today this land is ringed by boundaries drawn upon a current map. | |
| States and Provinces and Countries all line up to hold us back. | |
| If we trace our family bloodlines we might find a common thread. | |
| Quit the pulling and unravelling, we should knit and weave instead. | |
| Design a cloth of different colours - like a rainbow bright and bold. | |
| At its base we'll find a treasure - a new friendship to unfold. | |
| When our statemen sound dire warnings filling us with unknown dread. | |
| Familiar forms turn into strangers and we choose to hate instead. | |
| Broken promises and memories can be mended in our days. | |
| If we speak a kinder language and lead others to that way. | |
| We will be the new explorers searching for a common ground. | |
| Erasing lines and mapping unions of a kind as yet unfound. |