My Son’s Circles

My son walks in circles

Whenever he is free;

Yet such a silly thing

Is quite powerful to me.

The world is open for us,

Information to be found,

Yet most of us walk circles

With our eyes upon the ground.

But unlike my brave boy,

We keep our circles small.

As long as this is so,

Nothing will improve at all.

There are many folk whose circles

Were broadened very young.

Latin, Black, and Native voices

Had to learn the white man’s tongue.

Yet when the white is asked

To recognize that this is so,

They keep their eyes upon the ground;

Their circle will not grow.

I beg you now, dear Friend,

Fight to make your circle wide.

It won’t always be pretty,

But only then can all abide.

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