Red Maple
A mari usque ad mare
Brilliant red,
on snowy white.
Stains of love,
hue of blood.
Passions inflamed,
our anger untamed.
This colour is our glory,
sad marker of our shame.
No matter whose story,
or who we would blame,
we are the scarlet nation,
wounding by our creation—
those who came before us,
those who come after us.
They shaped what they could,
from silence, stone, and wood.
We now owe something more,
to repair injustice and sorrow.
Now let us speak, let us amend,
begin again, and not pretend.
This place; this shared domain,
so we can dream and remain
free to speak, and free to be;
glorious and ever free
from sea to sea to sea.
I appreciated how the red maple leaf becomes more than a national symbol—it carries both remembrance and responsibility. The poem acknowledges the weight of the past while still leaving room for hope and renewal. A thoughtful reflection on what it means to share both history and future.