A Lakota Mothers Prayer (+5)

‘Wana Hin Gle’ the Lakota call me,

‘Wana Hin Gle’ my given name

 

‘He Who Happens Now,’ the drum beat has found me,

reaching into this moment beyond glory and fame

 

As ‘Wana Hin Gle,’ my spirit has wandered,

as ‘Wana Hin Gle,’ my ancestors call

 

The questions dissolve, as The Great Mystery beckons,

the campfire eternal, the chanting enthralls

 

“‘Wana Hin Gle,”’ my Mother calls proudly,

“your horse is now ready, your shield fixed with bone

 

“Off into the prairie you must ride in the twilight,

the People will dance until their son returns home

 

“’Wana Hin Gle,’ you must now happen quickly,

the buffalo are all captive, starvation allowed

 

“Your eyes look upon the great Wakan Tanka,

whose absence has shamed us, who once were so proud

 

“As the great Tasunka Witko who traveled before you,

you must wait for your horse to come out of the lake

 

“Great Mother River and Great Mountain Father,

to your will they entrust what The People forsake

 

“Your vision must suffer, the babies still cry,

the cold through the tent flaps, all future in blight

 

“You must leave us now, but leave us in darkness,

for when you return, a new vision will burn bright

 

“You will ride to the top of the ‘Pass Of The Bears,’

ask the Grizzly, our brother, if the demon still preys

 

“If it does, you must kill it, for this time and always,

it has hovered above us keeping spirits away

 

“The White Horse will take you from the lake to the mountain,

and the stallion will sprout wings with its hooves fiery hot

 

“You will trample this demon and burn him before you,

the smoke will then signal of what he is not

 

“‘Wana Hin Gle,’” my son; the time is for going,

your vision awaits, past-futures on hold

 

“The Medicine Woman is locked deep inside you,

your People die waiting—the young and the old”

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2018)

 

 

About Us

 

Never thinking about you,

I think about us

 

Never thinking about then,

I think about now

 

Never thinking about blame,

I think about loss

 

Never thinking about you

—I think about us

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2018)

 

 

The Colored Glass

 

I write for me,

and not for you

 

The world I see

—this inner hue

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2018)

 

 

Myopia

 

The dim view of confinement

—the weakest look of all

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2018)

 

 

The Greatest Gift

 

To be undiscovered is to

keep working

—the greatest gift of all

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2018)

 

 

Set To Bloom

 

Like a vase containing flowers,

a writer becomes a vessel for words

 

Beyond seconds, minutes, and hours,

displaying lines set to bloom in what’s heard

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2018)

 

 

Last Ghost

 

Lost in the rambling,

found in the writing

 

The words in the whisky,

depravity’s eye

 

 The story of one,

a gift from the other

 

Released from tomorrow

—last ghost now set free

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2018)

 

 

 

Safe Within

 

College student….

Devils notion

—hiding among the words

 

Dilettante king

Dilettante queen

—safe within the herd

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2018)