Bears: The Dark Cave of Dreaming
There was a heatwave this summer
long, hot, crystal clear shining-sun days
My body felt so good - relaxed and content like a rock
no worries in my mind, smiles on usually grim faces
we played: children laughing, splashing sing-song merrymaking
It was a drought for Mother Earth
fires raging across the land as if avenging the murder of their kin
Goddess of water turning her back and shutting down
awaiting our recognition and asking us to beg her back,
grovel for her mercy after we took her for granted
It’s early September now
and I guess she took pity on us
or figured the trees shouldn’t suffer anymore on our behalf
There’s a bite in the wind
must be coming from the northwest
though I haven’t bothered to take notice
Busy modern man that I am, cut off at the root and
plopped into chaos and titillation - the temptation of
glowing blue screens, skin, instant gratification and information
that makes me feel informed and self-righteous
There’s an edge to the people
getting more afraid, more polarized
less in touch with the ground reality of body, breath
and the heartful clear seeing of fragility, neediness and
beautiful human presence
where what we read, hear and see online plants seeds
which hijack our ability to take in reality
as it is here and now in front of our very eyes
I hate it and I’m frustrated
Exhausted of trying to come to agreement on what sanity really is
So I welcome the dark and the cold
which calls us into sleep and solitude
Oh how the Bears must love to gorge at this time
before saying their farewells and trundelling up into the mountains
entering the Dark Cave of Dreaming
where all they’ve absorbed can be dissolved in the
Ocean of Truth
and they can know what it means to rest
Have we forgotten the power of rest?
Bears never worry the world won’t be there upon waking.