Friday, December 29, 2017
by Toni Truesdale
Morality tales in retrospection
Sing the world into creation, again;
Reenacting the cumulative wisdom
Cultural knowledge retains,
In prose that teaches;
Rules, mores and responsibilities
Concerning complex relationships
Of original instructions.
In commonality within communities,
The oral traditions reflect;
Collective memory in the timeless narratives
Of the Storyteller.
Monday, December 18, 2017
by Toni Truesdale
The beautiful dark Madonna comes down to us
from the our beginnings.
She has many names: Ana, Tiamat, Isis, Cybele,
Demeter, Sheba, Mary Magdalene,
Mary, mother of Christ,
Maya, mother of Buddha,
Fatima’ daughter of Mohammed,
Nana Bakula, Spider Woman, First Woman,
Parvati, Oxum, Corn Maiden, Eurzuli,
Oya, Morrigan, Ishtar,Tara, Gaia, Saule, Amaterasu,
She is of the earth and the sky;
She is our mother and our mother’s mother, and so on
to the very first spark of life,
She is always,The Great Mother.
She is us. We are she.
Wednesday, December 13, 2017
by Toni Truesdale
It is the time for the latent
Power of women to return.
The Spirits reach out to the earth
And all inhabitants.
It is a time of transition;
The view of one dominant
Culture is to be transformed
Into the perspective of many;
As thoughts of war turn
Into negotiations of peace,
Eliminating injustice, domination and discrimination.
The ancestors have told us,
Women elders speak with the strength
Copyright 2008 T. Truesdale
Friday, December 8, 2017
By Toni Truesdale
Just after Christmas, 1890, a group of Minneconjou Sioux
camped close to Pine Ridge, South Dakota.
They were led by Big Foot, who was very ill with pneumonia.
The tribe had just come through the Badlands with great difficulty.
It was frigid. The very air froze on the breath of the people.
Big Foot traveled in a wagon with a white flag.
He had hoped to join Red Cloud at Pine Ridge
to protect his people from the U.S. Calvary.
Major Whitside caught up with him on December 28.
He took the small band to camp at a creek called Wounded Knee.
The morning of the 29th, Colonial Forsyth, from Custer’s old regiment,
Proceeded to harass the Minneconjou men while looking for weapons.
A Young Man, Black Coyote, was trying to put his hunting rifle down.
The soldiers grabbed him and roughed him up.
Suddenly, there was a sound like a gunshot.
No one is really sure if it was a gun or who fired it. The soldiers didn’t investigate,
They opened fire instead.
The Minneconjou had been disarmed, they had only a few knives and clubs.
There was a brief struggle.
Then all the Minneconjou started to run from the big Hotchkiss guns
stationed on the hill above aiming at all the women and children.
It didn’t take long to kill nearly three hundred of the Sioux band.
Only a few soldiers died; mostly by friendly fire in the killing frenzy.
The people were buried in a huge mass grave, dug into the frozen ground.
Together in a mass grave, their bodies were contorted in the agony of violent death.
Big Foot’s band still remain at Wounded Knee
to testify silently on the depopulation techniques of the U.S. Government.
The Mass murder was legal,
The soldiers awarded the “Medal of Honor”.
Monday, December 4, 2017
Whispers of juniper,
Sage scent of star filled nights;
Wind whispering softly of
Remembered rites on plazas
Dancing to the drum, song, prayers
That echo still.
Handholds furrowed into cliff sides
Painted in prehistoric colors.
Footsteps of the ancients follow
Lightly dusted trade roads
Between carefully placed stones of origins.
Bears Ears: Birthplace of living nations.