April 25, 2019

The Blessing Of Being Alive: Lois Red Elk Returns!

Montana's acclaimed poet of the prairie beholds the patterns of nature and finds solace in the power of turtle

by Lois Red Elk-Reed

During a bout with serious illness, Lois Red Elk Reed found solace thinking about the tapestry of nature, its fabric, comprised of miracles within micrcles, woven within our ocean. Photo courtesy pxhere

After one of the longest winters in a good long while, we're happy to report Lois Red Elk is returning from her own hibernation, this one involving convalescence. "Well, I have finally recovered from a very serious spine inflammation," she writes from her home on the high high plains near the shores of Fort Peck. "The situation was not good for clear thinking and writing anything."

Whenever Red Elk commits words to paper, she is always incisive.

The first work here by Montana's critically-acclaimed poet is titled "A Well Worked Design." Red Elk composed it before she fell ill and then re-reading its lyrical message proved useful in helping her heal, she says. " We all are well worked designs and have to remember the spirit in which we were created."

Red Elk's second poem, "She Was Fed Turtle Soup," springs from experiences in her own childhood among strong nurturing women. "In the Dakota Culture, when a child has a dream about turtles they are fed turtle soup and instructed that they will live a long life," she says "During my illness I kept remembering the significance of my dream and the spirit of the turtle sustained me."

"She Was Fed Turtle Soup" is among the many gems in Red Elk's highly-praised book, "Why I Return to Makoce." Welcome Lois back, honor her, by picking up a copy. —Mountain Journal editors

(From the forthcoming work “On Earth Time”)

A Well Worked Design

imagine a being so perfectly ordered

with clay from Unchi breast

breath of gods, dust borrowed from ancient

planets a salamander kind of

anatomy for life on this terra firma with

lungs modeled after a sea

creature from distant past tawachin born for

light dreams to create we

look at the footprints in petrified rock on

plateaus where settlement is

foreseen as home female members smile and

believe it is all predicted the

cloak of clouds the liquid of spaces between

the nurturer and fire and the

bending power of what makes all things move

all subscribe to a habitation

and pursuit they raise their thighs from the

rhythm created when bones

and shells mingle they send a strong layered

telling from deep in the throat

a sharing coming and going between all they

raise their arms and palms to the

wonder of giant zitkala flashing bolts of light

they revere the wakanyeja as

precious and call it enlightenment a subtle

predicted growth surrounds

builds as the counting of winters establishes

occupation with the desert

mountains edges of mother’s water and places

where tall trees grow they

give as they receive a well worked design with

apparitions dwelling in

dreams floating outward transforming into

fluent beings letting go a new

sprung sacred laughter for all to assimulate

©Lois Red Elk

Unchi—grandmother

Tawachin—mind

Zitkala—birds

Wakanyeja—children

She Was Fed Turtle Soup

The willows were turning green, slips of leafs

pointing to one another in a slow tempo soothing

the air with whispers of coming water. Her feet

were bare and the earth cool while a loose hem

feathered her ankles for her walk. Bracing on

stems for the gradual pace to not disturb all the

sleeping turtles, she wished for sunlight in a

shade of green to hurry growth and to keep her

hidden. How close could she lean into the

memory of relatives who lived this life of damp

shells and slow demeanor without alerting them

of her intent. All of grandma’s voices were now

shaking her sleepy mind and begging her return

to answer the details of her dream. It was the

call of tradition that signaled the next step to

seal the new experience into her life basket.

She will be served turtles energy for her growth.

Off of grandma favorite tree a knot was cut and

shaped into a bowl. Handles in the shape of

young turtles was carved into the sides. Into

the cottonwood bowl was poured the prepared

soup with essence of memory from a life once

lived. Thanking all that came before this earth

life, was her detailed prayer. A calling of all

water animals to witness the taking of one

energy to give to the energy of another, a child

who passed the test of recalling ancient blood.

Her heart will live with turtle strength. Her

life will be long and purposefully directed. Her

song will be like the cool breeze moving tall

willows above eddies remembering motion.

©Lois Red Elk

About Lois Red Elk-Reed

Lois Red Elk-Reed is a poet who calls the high plains home. She is Mountain Journal's poet in residence.

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April 25, 2019

The Blessing Of Being Alive: Lois Red Elk Returns!

Montana's acclaimed poet of the prairie beholds the patterns of nature and finds solace in the power of turtle

Defend Truth &Wild Places

Defend Truth &
Wild Places