Photo courtesy Mike Baird https://www.flickr.com/photos/mikebaird/323660913/
A year ago, the high plains panoramically unfolding from Lois Red Elk's viewshed of Fort Peck were about to encounter a "flash drought" in which dry, warm conditions erased the moisture accumulation of winter. So far in 2018 a very different kind of weather pattern has set in.
"What a chilly Spring we've had, but It's all good," Red Elk writes in a note accompanying a pair of poems. "Don't want to complain too much. All the birds that return to this part of the country have arrived, despite the snow and sleet."
In honor of the winged ones, Lois offers a brand new poem and an older one. "My childhood was filled with stories about all the wamakaska (beings of the earth) or animals," she notes.
"My father or grandmothers would always begin their stories with a fun and light hearted message, then end with the moral of the story. As I matured, the grandmothers would often retell a story to fit my needs, in an ever exciting and sometimes harsh life, and how I could learn to apply the lesson for today."
Red Elk says that the hawk in Dakota/Lakota culture pays visits carrying messages. "The messages tell us that we are going to be asked for help. The hawk also is curious and wants to know what's going on." Those who savor literature references will smile at Red Elk's recent work, When Hawks Cry, We Don't Look for Godot. The second piece is titled The Eagle and Hawks Catch a Ride, taken from her acclaimed volume, Why I Return to Makoce (2015 Many Voices Press).
Photo courtesy Tony Hisgett
When Hawks Cry, We Don’t Look for Godot
Driving down 3rdAvenue South I thought I saw four
men standing under the trees near the bridge. I had to
take a quick second look. That’s when I briefly saw them -
four spirits. Their silhouettes resembled someone I knew,
or was related to, like an uncle or a cousin. Just passing
through the underpass I decided to do a U-turn. Two of
the men reminded me of someone from a long time ago
who lost themselves in an untimely event, but they still
claimed their right to be, to occupy a space with minimal
energy. Of course they had been seen there many times
before. I had to make sure it was real. You know, like
when eyes betray or when a drifting mind does not
synchronize with vision. But, yes, there were four of them,
but not spirits just the local street people, all looking off
in the distance. I quickly searched the direction they were
facing. There was no one. But yet it seemed like there
was an energy heading their way, coming to satisfy a thirst
that needed to be quenched sooner than later. The air was
filled with drifting breath caught by the frost forming on
their upturned collars and caps, a little bit of evidence of
life spilling from their still forms. I didn’t want to think
any further about their day, their life, their future. It was
my urgent decision for my own day, so much work to do.
But mine wasn’t enough. I had to pray, had to send some
words to our common spirits, had to remember the blood
and birthright we shared. Just as quick as I opened my
mouth to utter a quiet word, I heard the whistle of a hawk.
Why on such a cold day, why right in the middle of town.
I circled the block to try and catch a glimpse of the red-tail
in flight. As I rounded the corner I saw others searching
the sky for the unusual site. All of a sudden it came to me,
the story my father shared. When hawks cry someone will
be asking us for help. I decided to stop and pulled my car
into the nearby parking lot. Just as I opened my door, a
cousin walked over and asked if I heard that hawk. I said I
had and was going to park and look. He said, so you thought
we were all looking for Godot? I broke out in laughter at
his intelligent wit. He said, sometimes we are looking for
Godot, but when hawks cry we know someone is asking for
help. I paused a long time searching his face then asked, so
who is asking for help? He said we are always in need of
help. Another car pulled up with coffee and rolls from the
casino across the street. It was a local minister who stopped
and asked if he could pray with them. One of the group shied
away but the others agreed. While they prayed I heard off in
