Beautiful poem of the day: I was reading a lot of Native American myths in preparation for a class I was teaching at Washington University several years ago, when I ran across this song by the Popago people. I really liked it, and I hope you do too.
Song for the Puberty Rite of a Girl Named Cowaka
A poor man takes the songs in his hand
And drops them near the place where the sun sets.
See, Cowaka, run to them and take them in your hand,
And place them under the sunset.