So I took the bright red stick and at the center of the nation's hoop I thrust it in the earth.

Everything an Indian does is in a circle, and that is because the power of the world always works in circles.

Give me strength to walk the soft earth, a relative to all that is.

It may be that some little root of the sacred tree still lives. Nourish it then, that it may leaf and bloom and fill with singing birds.

Also, as I lay there thinking of my vision, I could see it all again and feel the meaning with a part of me like a strange power glowing in my body; but when the part of me that talks would try to make words for the meaning, it would be like fog and get away from me.

The power of the world always works in circles.

Every place is the center of the world.