Lois Red Elk writes from the high plains, "Wow, people were so surprised to get a late spring snow storm. But that is hi-line weather, unpredictable. I wasn't so surprised as I was praying for more moisture for our earth in this region."
The "Hi-line" area of Montana is the far northern tier of the state where the Great Northern Railroad built a track in the late 19th century connecting cities in the Midwest, such as Minneapolis-St. Paul and Chicago, with emerging towns on the coast, like Seattle. In turn, the line was used to deliver beef and grain products to distant markets.
The incursion of the railroad brought the end of bison, waves of dryland farmers and cattle grazers. From her home at Fort Peck, Red Elk confronts many common geographic reference points that connote very different things depending on who is interpreting them.
As a tribute to spring, MoJo's poet in residence delivers two works—a brand new one and another favorite timed to the season. The new poem is called Maga Agli Win which in Dakota means "Moon When Geese Return." Observes Lois, "My mother and aunties had this unique relationship with the weather. They referred to wind, rain, storms, etc, as relatives and paid close attention to what the elements were saying and always remembered to be thankful."
Red Elk's second poem is called Glad You're Back and appears in her critically-acclaimed bookWhy I Return to Makoce, 2015 (Many Voices Press). "It speaks to a conversation I tried to have with a storm," she says. Enjoy. —MoJo editors
In Dakota/Lakota, the emergence of "hokshicekpa" (the wild crocus) is a good harbinger. Photo courtesy Wikimedia user Tigerente
Maga Agli Win
I am looking at fog coming from Mni Sose,
Grandfathers breath we name it, ancient as
earth and new as inhaling for a recovering
moment. I know earth is speaking change
when sun and ice bring vision. This morning,
after prayers I stop and listen for the familiar
language of maga winging from the South. I
want to feel the flow of bodies over my house,
a blessing of good news of Spring and tales
from the South. Aunties words remind my
ear to hear, then to utter the language in Lakota,
