They weave in and out.
Those ancient dancers
A joyous trance to perform.
In their fine feathers they strut
One after another taking their places
In reverent fashion
Lining up, moving sinuously
To the timing of the lute.
Each one following the other
Orderly now, each one in step,
Synchronized perfection,
Just as the wheat is blown
A single stem at a time
As the grain weaves itself
like an ocean across the seed heads.
Golden and warm in the sunlight
Bending and giving space to one another
Like the ebb and flow of waves
All falling together.
Not one out of place
All timing in perfect sequence.
As the wind dies away
Each dancer raises her head
Looking about in satisfaction.
The work is complete as the sun
Kisses the grain farewell.
Inspired by the music of John Doan, “Tra Amici” from Departures
Elizabeth Munroz