Every spring, when the ice breaks on the creek
And our long sleep ends, a powerful man
Goes forth to the sacred center of our village.
He stands there, enjoying the awakening land,
Greeting the return of Father Sun,
Asking him to bless our fields.
This is the time for Planting of Mother Earth's Navel,
A time for seeds to be carried into her sacred core,
A time for the source of all our blessings
To be honored by songs and celebration. The Planter
Of Mother Earth's Navel is a holy man, an elder who
Stands with his seeds and waits
For Mother Earth's Navel to hear his greeting. Then
Down, down into the center of Mother Earth's Navel he goes,
To the place where dark becomes light, to tender green,
And in this place finds reverence. One by one, he plants
Seeds of hope and regeneration into the deep sweet body
Of Mother Earth. When the Holy Planter is finished, we rejoice,
Knowing that our crops shall grow tall because
We have planted Mother Earth's Navel with our dreams.
--Nancy Wood
