09-22-2021

​

Lois Red Elk

 

For myself

​

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 ancestors’ 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.”

 

(Santee: Eastern branch of the great Sioux Nation)

 

 

​

Mother's Water

​

it is always the water first

​

      trickling down mature legs

​

coming from an interior source

​

      where mist inhabits stomach caves

​

where a pool collects all droplets

​

      upon the arrival of the first blood

​

where ache signals the flow and

​

      Mother Earth in her longing

​

to keep creation a learned ritual

​

       propels the human river to live

​

where her streams are my arteries

​

       her veins set off my streams

​

her rivers are my amniotic flow

​

      Earth’s possession, her ancient body,

​

renews self in my flooding moon

​

      against the moisture of the womb

​

where she shared her cradle, became

​

      my womb, my place in cosmos,

​

in creation, together they passed on

​

      the power of conception, of birthing

​

life again with the permission of

​

Mother’s all sacred flowing waters

 

 

​

Dragonfly Weather

​

This Earth has always belonged to those who love her and

recognize her as the revered elder of motion. Maka Unci

(Grandmother Earth) and Maka Ina (Mother Earth) we have

 

called her. The Dreams that were sent to our beloved

ancestors told us to Makoce wayanka (view the land) as

our flesh, and follow her example, guide the life of all those

 

who birthed our blood, winter after winter throughout all

time. Our people remember the grandeur of our creation

songs, when the Divine gave us rock, the winds, water, the

 

beings of the earth, and the beautiful flowers of plants.

We named them Inyan, Tate, Mini, Wamakaskan, and

maka etanhan taku icaga. We knew we were related to

 

everything, because we are all made of the same that is of

earth. In our visits with all earthly things we learned to

love all that was given to us. The earth and all her living

 

creations never lied to us. We learned to trust her and all

her relatives, the sky, the moon, sun and stars, and we

recognized them as the relatives above. The four-legged, the

 

beings that fly, and all the beings that live with water spoke

the same language as our own. They helped us through

the seasons, gave our bodies energy, and spoke to us about

 

the spirits that dwell in all of us and in creation. Long ago

the D/Lakota wisdom instructed us to share. Share food,

share wealth, share responsibility, share the earth, share

 

the connection to the animals, share the beauty of prayer,

and share the teachings. This is the time—the season when

all seems lost—to pick up your heart, and give it to the Great

 

Mystery. The rotation of our star, the plants, and the animal

messengers all believe in the Great Mystery. Pick up the

culture and the wise stories for our safety, enlightenment

 

and health. Who will we listen to? Pick a season and the

plants and animals will choose you. The wolf teaches about

family, the bear teaches medicine, the turtle teaches us to

 

care for the children, and the dragonfly teaches us to be

swift in worth. This is the season, the time of dragonflies,

when we need to leave harm, make swift decisions, escape

 

quickly to the good world, when our star is aligned with

sun, when plants and water incubate beginnings of being,

of wings, for earth life. When the earth, through female

 

water, births the messenger of the necessary, the need to

find value, the essence of your being will open the heart

   to the new season. This is Dragonfly weather.

​

-from Dragonfly Weather (Lost Horse Press 2013), selected by Fall 2021 Guest Editor, CMarie Fuhrman 

​

Lois Red Elk is an enrolled member of the Ft. Peck Sioux in Montana, with roots from the Isanti on her mother’s side, and the Hunkpapa and Ihanktonwa from her father, who is descended from the Sitting Bull family. Raised in her traditional culture, she is a quill and bead worker, a traditional dancer and an advocate for cultural preservation and practice.
Her poems, prose, and children’s stories have been published in many magazines and anthologies. Her first book, Our Blood Remembers (Many Voices Press, 2011) won the Best Non-Fiction award from Wordcraft Circle of Native Writers and Storytellers. Her latest book is Dragonfly Weather (Lost Horse Press, 2013).