Choke Cherry Moon

For the last several nights
I've been disoriented
nearly certain
that the pregnant yellow moon
hanging in the warm still night
is the midsummer's full moon
known also as the
Sundance moon.

It's a hard hot year for those dancers
if there are any
and I'm sure there are.

They suffer and burn out there
under the tree of life
under the sun
that never flinches or blinks
for their prayers,
for the people,
for creation -
so that we may live.

They sleep on the earth
under the stars
under burnt skins and cramping limbs
under the blanket of prayers
woven by the supporters
with prayers of their own.

They will see Death,
just over there,
and they will fear it
with an immediacy many there
have never known before,
and they will dance on,
harder,
fighting.

They will almost see God,
and for a time
stop doubting
and surrender.

Scream of bone whistles
shrill
breaks your heart
makes you spin
the sound of these souls
unguarded

Osimala Yelo !

The spirit moves
brushes your skin
whispers, breezes-
close at hand -
sparks in the dark steam
half formed
behind the sun.

They will rise before the sun
audience to the morning star's chilly silence
majesty
never noticed before
this day.

Hoka! Hoka!

The drum drives their steps
The singers feed their hearts,
carry their minds from suffering
and back to it again.

They have come to honor
a commitment
to give their flesh and tears and pain,
because it is all they have to offer that truly belongs to them,
they will struggle
and they will break free
earning us another year
rededicating themselves
gathering spiritual power
for the good of others.

Matakuye Oyasin
We Are All Related

Faces in the dirt
forehead to the good Earth
bosom of the Mother
humble
they sweat
and dance
and cry
naked before Everything.

I can feel the drum stir me
even as my inner ear
pretends not to notice.

Wopila,
for everything.