EDITOR’S NOTE : Lois Red Elk was never raised to believe that humans are in charge of that which has passed or what is yet to come. And so, now, in these times of Covid-19 and protests over the killing of Floyd George she yields to larger forces at work in the natural world and cosmos. What we can do is try to keep a clear head and pure heart in confronting adversity and using prayer (whatever form it takes and to whomever it is directed) to hold on to the only thing that matters and moves forward meaningful change that lasts: love. For June, the month that brings us abiding summer, Red Elk offers two poems, including the new work, Palms on Buffalo Skull.
by Lois Red Elk
Hello My Mountain Journal Friends ,
Been staying safe, these days.
Thinking about the pandemic and the very sad news currently all over the internet. All I can do as an elder is pray. I’ve been doing a lot of that lately. I am truly thankful for my ancestor teachings and spirituality. We are never alone with Maka Unci— grandmother earth, and the great spirit with us. One of the most significant spiritual parts of the buffalo is the skull which holds all the wisdom of the universe and the spiritual unknown Taku Wakan .
“We are never alone with grandmother earth, and the great spirit with us. One of the most significant spiritual parts of the buffalo is the skull which holds all the wisdom of the universe and the spiritual unknown .”
Maka Unci—Taku Wakan
I have been praying for that wisdom and spirit to aid all those who need it in our country today. Palms on the Buffalo Skull is a new poem and For Prayer is from my earlier volume Dragonfly Weather.
Best to you all,
Lois
Palms On Buffalo Skull
(for my sons, Dustin and Neil)
Standing with palms on the Buffalo skull,
I watch the tips of the horns. One reaches
for the Red space, the other reaches for
the Black, it is a road from East to West,
from a rising to a setting, from a birth
to a cleansing, for a life choice. The
skull’s eyes are filled with bundles of sage,
a shield, the acknowledgement that this
moment, this alter is sacred and will be
protected. Again, his horns move and are
encircled with sage bracelets donated by
last year’s Sun Dancer, was told to use as
the humble trail for the sweat and tears all
sacrificed for the height of sun, the rattle
of cottonwood leaves, the support of songs,
the rhythm of the flute, to honor the life
giver, to honor all relatives, to honor sacred
breath, to honor all that is. I watch smoke
circle the house, the room, the hair, the body.
Time to retreat, to set mind to the wisdom
of the skull, where all blood knowledge
filters from the universe into the skin of
dancers, children, food, water. At one, the
vibration begins, palms on the Buffalo skull
become warm, become energized, become
extended, become taken. Now prayer begins…
© Lois Red Elk
For Prayer
This day, I adorn braided
sweet grass earrings handed
down from mother’s Santee
rings of aromatic medicine.
From the ancestor lands of
father’s Lakota family, I fill
pockets with handfuls of
cedar, my protective shield.
Into this circle of morning
spirit food, a prayer surfaces
from the Southern recess of
primal night-dwelling dreams.
I thank the Western powers,
where a mirror reflects
images of the ones I trust-
transparent photos of the
Mitakuyepi, floating in
frames of red and yellow
buffalo grass, thundering in
a structure of immortality.
To my ancestor’s Northern
power, my garden awaits
the first sound of thunder, I
meditate a promise of sage,
the offering to be burned
waving away harmful spirits.
To the East where all our
ceremonies approach the
carved pipestone, I extol
all the waiting visible spirits,
“Thank you for this rising,
this keep that cradles me.”
Mitakuyepi – my relatives
© Lois Red Elk
NOTE: This poem appeared in Red Elk’s volume Dragonfly Weather. You can buy a copy by clicking here.
