Circles in the sand 

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Photo: Canva.com

Circles in the sand 

Where do you come from, little one 
from the soil that births stone and cement 
endlessly perfect control 
souls searching for meaning.

Where do you come from, little one 
born from the soil a grain of rice, an industry 
tired shadows and smog 
searching for harmony between building and blossom.

Where do you come from, little one 
drifting in yellow flowers 
touching sun, colour, cloth, caste 
a life of spirit and spice.

Where do you come from, little one 
from the soil that gives birth to freedom, factory and fame 
a vast landscape of trailers and opportunity 
or from streams, forests and mountains 
where feasts, fear and famine abound.

Where do you come from, little one 
from the soil that gives birth to blood and rubble 
a black veil concealing the endless wind-song and sand 
a serving of flavours and courage.

Where are you, hunter people, cattle boys? 
Where are you, brave strong-feathered people? 
Where are you, smiling people from a distant island? 
I long for your untamed stories.

And you, my hunter people, my cattle boys? 
Where are your songs 
your stories of the sable and the veldkos?

Lay down the blanket of diversity, the freedom of creativity 
and face the winds of responsibility and opportunity

for I long to draw a circle of unity in the sand.

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