Carter, a yearling (20 months old) who I hope survives the hunt
Photo Credit: Lynn Rogers
In my mind
I inhabit a small
cabin nestled in
fragrant red pines
where Black bears
climb rough bark
to peer
down at me
believing I
seek their company.
Boundary waters
surround me
with deep Silence
that allows
me to hear
the Voices
of the Forest.
The scent of
of hundreds of
miles of open water
wraps me in
a blanket of moist
air even as night sky
bowl cracks over my head,
pouring down tales of
primordial story.
The Great Bear
is a spiral –
spinning a cocoon of
Midnight Grace.
Here, living
among the bears,
trees,
and the creatures
of the forest
I remember –
We are all
spun from stardust,
meant
to live in harmony,
as relatives –
In Peace.
Working notes:
I have just moved across country from Maine to New Mexico – leaving one border- land for another. Yet my dreams do not follow me; Instead, they speak to the bear hunt that occurs each fall throughout this country, a land so hopelessly steeped in human violence. In my dreams night after night I cry out for the suffering I witness as young bears are slaughtered without mercy.
When I awaken I am not here or there but in a place in northern Minnesota where people seek to protect the innocent… Here bears and humans co –exist in peace.
How I long to join them…
