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| Reported birth of rare white buffalo calf in Yellowstone park fulfills Lakota prophecy: “The birth of this calf is both a blessing and warning. We must do more,” said Chief Arvol Looking Horse, the spiritual leader of the Lakota, Dakota and the Nakota Oyate in South Dakota, and the 19th keeper of the sacred White Buffalo Calf Woman Pipe and Bundle… Lakota legend says about 2,000 years ago—when nothing was good, food was running out and bison were disappearing—White Buffalo Calf Woman appeared, presented a bowl pipe and a bundle to a tribal member, taught them how to pray and said that the pipe could be used to bring buffalo to the area for food. As she left, she turned into a white buffalo calf. “And some day when the times are hard again,” Looking Horse said in relating the legend, “I shall return and stand upon the earth as a white buffalo calf, black nose, black eyes, black hooves.” A similar white buffalo calf was born in Wisconsin in 1994 and was named Miracle, he said. —AP, June 14, 2024. More photos by Erin Braaten here at YouTube. |
Today's News . . . Today's Poem
The New Verse News
presents politically progressive poetry on current events and topical issues.
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Thursday, June 20, 2024
LEGEND OF WHITE BUFFALO CALF WOMAN
Tuesday, January 12, 2021
AFTERMATH
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| “No Mercy” by Mariusz Kozik |
It’s turned me
into a steel blade,
cutting people from my life
without hesitation, without doubt,
just a quick slice and they are gone.
I’m not a heartless man. Rather,
the opposite: forgiving, understanding.
But not this time, not this time.
Some things are too sacred.
The Constitution, for one.
I believe. I defended it
my entire career. If you choose
to denigrate, or violate, or ignore
it, you face the blade that my life
has taken on: it will cut you
out, send you into the outer darkness
of my life where I may never see
you again, never think of you again.
I’m sorry—no, strike that.
I do not apologize. I am steel,
on this, I am steel. And the blade
Friday, October 26, 2018
FOR MATTHEW SHEPARD
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| On October 26, 2018 at 10:00 am Washington National Cathedral hosts a Service of Thanksgiving and Remembrance for Matthew Shepard, whose brutal death in 1998 shocked the world, grieved the Church and mobilized the LGBTQ movement. The Right Rev. Mariann Edgar Budde, Episcopal bishop of Washington, and the Right Rev. V. Gene Robinson, the first openly gay man elected a bishop in The Episcopal Church, will preside. The service is free and open to the public, and passes are not required. Following the public service, the Shepard family will attend private interment service in the Cathedral crypt. Watch live online: https://youtu.be/FSXtHMXuaPI |
finally
you will rest
after the weight of some twenty years
as God’s light scatters color
through hallowed glass
within the cycle of other calendared events
future festivals will frame your ashes
liturgy will celebrate each change of season
morning prayer and even song will hinge the hours . . .
from now on
how many visitors will walk among the silences
and finding your name will pause to remember your life,
your costly pain
and death
with its unanswerable why
yet under its ashen skin
there still pulses that fragile thing we call hope . . .
matthew
today this sacred space welcomes you home
Monday, September 18, 2017
A SACRED RITE: WHEN ATHLETES KNEEL
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it could have been genuflections in a church
but there was no stained glass no pews
yet they knelt in a presence greater themselves
a silence a sanctuary on a field
now a battle wages using words that pelt like stones
that cannot comprehend
this sacred moment this most protected of all rights
to dissent to kneel to stand to risk it all
Tuesday, April 12, 2016
FOODIES ABROAD AND DOWN THE STREET
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| Image source: China Highlights |
On Calvin Trillin’s “Have They Run Out of Provinces Yet?”
Published in The New Yorker, April 4, 2016
Maybe “province bagging” is a thing, foodies
like tourists collecting cathedrals.
No wonder the ancient countries
and their children
take offense at our forgetting
these places are sacred,
these dishes are mothers.
May we all—all, no matter
our birth, our skin, our standing—
remember to open our souls,
let them expand with each site or bite.
Let us be pilgrims,
let us repent of devouring,
learn to savor.




