
I watched the mother bear,
as she gave birth to a thousand pages.
The bears standing near held her paws and coached,
helping tobring forth the dream.
I wondered where the papers flew away too.
They flapped their pages together, like strange written birds.
Some were caught up inside invisible wind devils,
swirling and dancing before my eyes.
I thought for a second; I am the bear, the bear is the poet.
For a second this was true and I wondered at how many places
my pages would fly to.
Dreams are frail when born; courage sparks the fire that
illuminates their promise.
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