The bear seems to wander
Aimlessly.
For us
The forest has no maps,
Roads, or waysides.
The bear never cares
Where he is.
He always knows
His way home.
The bear knows
The forest is his home,
And he belongs to the forest.
For you and I,
Life has darkness,
Shadows, unknowns,
And in those unknowns
Our world becomes small.
The bear see darkness
As just another part
Of his ongoing hunt.

The forest has many secrets.
Some we’ll never learn
Or know.
The bear has few secrets.
The forest has no secrets
With him.
To the bear
Everything is a journey,
A discovery,
Or just another scent,
Sent his way in the wind.
He may
Or he may not
Even change
His direction.

The older I get,
The more I appreciate
Youth and beauty.
The older I get,
The more I appreciate the bear.
The bear treats everything
He has learned, loved, or discovered,
The same as he treats a new morning,
The crossing of a cold mountain stream,
Or the setting of an October sun.

Only by becoming the bear
Can I see love, beauty,
And all the secrets of the forest
Without fear,
But with discretion.
The bear awakens in spring.
Journey’s the forest,
Marks his boundaries,
Becomes part of them,
And finds his mate
Late in summer. .
The bear prepares
When fall begins
It’s first turn of color,
And always,
The bear
Keeps to the hunt.
And always,
Keeps to himself,
The secrets of the forest,
For his dreams
In winter.
Only by becoming the bear
Can I see love,
Beauty, and what
Life brings to me,
Not through my desires,
But plainly
Through humility.