Ancient and furrowed, sturdy and strong, navels set fast, deep in the ground
High in the mountains,
Close to the sky,
Are clearings on ledges,
With whispery traces …
The Wee folk were merry.
Singing and dancing,
Traced on the ground,
‘Round a post set with flowers …
The signs of a gathering,
And spinning in circles,
Whirling and twirling,
And raising the spirits.
Or was it the wind,
Restless for change,
Shaking the blossoms,
Buzzing the bees?
Or was it the flowers,
Who woke from their dream,
Ghostly and shimmering,
Under the stars?
And jumped and cavorted,
‘Round and around,
Pearls in the moonlight.
Ere first light of dawn,
Ancient and furrowed,
Sturdy and strong,
Navels set fast,
Deep in the ground,
The buckwheat,
Was dancing.
Around,
And around.
Holy jumping buckwheats!