Published in Longneck, 1995 & The Literary Review, 1996.

  GIFT OF THE HEALING DARKNESS

 by Dorothy Blackcrow Mack

wachekia (praying)

                   In the summer buffalo pasture, deep
black hulks rest in shadow, sacred herd;
we drift past them out onto the land, no fear
now of rattlers, checking tobacco ties
on each fence post: all is well. We breathe night
mint in moonlight, touch hands, silence for miles.
A hoop of peace surrounds us as we
               walk into the healing darkness.

           inipi (being reborn)

                 Enclosed in sheets, we crawl through the low door,
                 sit on sage around the center firepit
                 filled with glowing rocks, hissing and steaming,
                 "born and ancient ones," tunka oyate;
                 rock faces smile wisdom, spit out truth. Songs call
                 ancestral Spirits in, glowing blue-green;
                 cold water and hot steam renew our hearts
                 in Grandma Earth's round womb. Praying, we
                                breathe into the healing darkness.
 

lowanpi  (singing healing)
 

                   In night meeting as they nail shut the door,
cover the windows with blankets, we tuck
our feet in, sit still, sage over one ear.
With kerosene lamp blown out, the drumbeat
begins, slow and deep, heartbeat of Grandma
Earth; we become one ear, one heartbeat, one
mind to sing for all those in pain, sickness,
grief, despair. Wrapped in ancient songs, we
                  sink into the healing darkness.

                                        hanblechia (crying for vision)

                   Embraced by earth in a deep vision pit,
                   fasting four days and nights, surrounded by
                   tobacco ties, altar and silence, we
                   lean against soft warm dirt for strength, knowing
                   only earth the final blanket; alone,
                   we cry holding the sacred pipe wrapped in
                   sage. "Wakan Tanka, bring health, happiness
                   and good future to the People," we
                                pray into the healing darkness.

wanagiyapi (going to spirit land)

                   In Badlands cliffs above Redstone Basin,
                   we find old bent willows, wooden pail, rock
                   pile, cloth scraps, feathers, ancient praying place;
                   far below, fossil turtles, Clovis points,
                   bison ribs.  Thousands of hooves once trod this
                   trail deep in the prairie. At night spirit
                   bison still stampede over shuddering hills;
                   as we follow that dark echo, we
                                walk into the healing darkness.