Dear Mountain Bear,
Thank you for going on the walk I did not do.
You have taken the shoes from under me,
and given them room to breathe the air of night,
while a cryptic owl swooped his silent flight
in search of the very thing I did my best to put away.
The hunt for fresher life, fertile and festive,
in the company of small mammals in plain sight,
in the company of trees in leaf,
earthworms and earthlings,
in the garden of the Big Bang.
It suited me to stay indoors,
and not to cry too much in the face of the messenger outside,
to celebrate a brave warrior‘s walk
into the cradle of my infancy,
into the face of my fears,
into the promise of my fertility.