Bear

testimony for the bear

he waits nearby
he’s always there
he’s not my lover
he’s more than my friend

he showed me the high mountain pass
we will take to the sky,
to the spirit road home.
it’s the same mountain
in the drawing of the horse
my friend greg gave me, years ago,
after i had told him about
power animals. i was working
at the large white university then
and i had dreamt of the horse, tied, harnessed, blinkered,
pulling away, upset and afraid, and had told
greg the dream as we sat
eating lunch under the pines, a rabbit nibbling clover
nearby. i had told him the horse
was my body
and that the job,
despite the good money,
was making me sick. greg gave me
the drawing after i had finally quit,
after he had finally given up
trying to convince me to stay. in it, the horse is free, strong and unafraid.
the mountain is behind. greg was not my lover,
but he is my friend.

and him, when he showed me the mountain,
he wore a grey t shirt and dark blue gym shorts.
he looked like the guy who teaches
the kids in the city, or on the rez,
how to play basketball. drumming the ball up and down
on crumbled asphalt, pounded earth, a lonely hoop
bolted to a board up high. no net.
it was the first time
i had truly seen him. he’s big and dark,
big as a bear. his hair is cut short. we wear
the same scar. it’s clear no one messes with him~~

~~while i worked yesterday
i knew he was just outside
playing bones with the others
near the creek, and that later they filtered
over into the shade to fish.

he likes this old river town. it is full of his kind,
spirits who dearly love a place.
he likes to smell the water, to feel the green light falling
into alcoves of earth breathing out sweetness. so do i.
we are at peace here, our enemies have fled. and so
we call this place home, for now.

he’s been with me all my life
and only now that i am healed
can i see him
can i know with my heart he is there
can i know his joy too
and his need for me to be
okay

only now do i know
it’s because of him that dogs leashed to humans
trotting merrily up the hill
back away from me in alarm,
legs stiff,
noses twitching very carefully,
very deliberately.
they are thinking
maybe they’ll give me a bite.
i stay very still,
speak to them in soft tones of love. i try not
to show my teeth.

there are only two dogs who don't do that:
the akita, a bear himself, smiling and asian.
he looks at me appraisingly,
with something like amused respect
in his eyes.
and little annie across the road,
black and white boston wearing
pretty sweaters and a purple collar,
she lives with women who love her like a baby.
she knows nothing of bears and she sees only a kind woman
in me--

because it’s the bear they smell
and maybe even see,
the bear in me and
the spirit that is him.
we are united on this walk--
sometimes standing tall on two legs,
sometimes down on all fours--
picking our way through a broken
ugly world.
we are opportunistic
eaters, wary
of humans, solitary travelers
wending our way back
somewhere. only now that i am solid and whole,
do i know this.
only now that i know this,
do i feel solid
and whole.

Interlude: Journal Entry

It's warm. It's too warm. I dont know if it is me or the weather, or both. I don't know. Maybe I have too many clothes on from when it was cool, and my mind hasnt yet caught up to the change. Or maybe from earlier in the week when this cold--which might be a sinus infection, or on the verge of one--made me cold. It is humid too. The air smells wrong. I feel wrung out and dragged down and unwell. On the edge of losing my composure, maybe even losing my religion, albeit temporarily. I am hot and sweaty and uncomfortable, with a raspy throat and congested lungs, a stuffy head, occasional headache. And tired, tired to the point of the 'poor me's'. I could get there. I have been dipping my toes in it. Started whining a little to God. Those thoughts. "No one to take care of me. No one to offer a hand, a cup of tea, a break, a respite. Can't even take a day off from work because I need the income too much.' And then I remind myself of the bad marriage, the crazy boyfriend, nightmare relationships that are so much worse than any solitude. The bloodsucking losers and vampires who polluted my life and made a mess of all that I cherish. My mind still reels when I think about the Vampyr who would break anything dear to me, so that maybe I would ask him to fix it, and then he could be the hero. My antique rocker is still unusable with that hole punched in the cane seat. The aquarium still has those mysterious cracks. He did these things secretly, while I shook my head and wondered why so many things broke. It wasnt until after I had asked him to leave that I put the pieces of the puzzle together, because after he left nothing broke anymore. Not like that. Not with such alarming frequency, out of my sight. Madness! I hate the madness. I hate the crazy hurtful people. I have had an overabundance of them in my life, and who knows why, but I want nothing to do with any of them anymore ever. Not anymore ever. And so I have barricaded myself, and I will stay here.

Tho I had a dream this morning of a nice person. It was an odd disjointed dream. I had a horse, black, wild, sort of fierce. It came at me and pushed with its muzzle over and over at my neck, intensely, teeth bared but not biting. I need to look at this more. My horse, a spirit companion since childhood, is trying to tell me something. And then later in the dream, I had another horse and I was supposed to ride it in a parade. I had a prominent spot in the parade, solitary, between two groups. I had nice boots, jeans, shirt, and a nice well-behaved horse. Someone came and gave me pretty earrings to wear. Somehow as we went, the horse and I, I lost sight of the group in front of me and of the group behind me. But I made it to the ending place. Most of the people were already there, seated at a meal. There was a great wind at first and people were outside trying to hold the building in place. I went inside and found my friend, seated at the table. It was crowded. A place was made for me beside him. He accompanied me to the buffet table, showed me the dish his wife had made, spoke disparaging comments about it, but I took some, said it looked good. It was something odd, made of ritz crackers and bananas. Anyway, he was my friend, and in his company I felt safe and at rest. I had the horses too. I need to think what the fierce black horse was trying to communicate or give to me. That insistent battering at my neck, not hurtful but very forceful. I don't know.

It is at least finally Friday and there is comfort in that just as there was comfort in the presence of my friend in the dream. He was someone who knew me, knew what I had accomplished, and abided with me. Abiding with is a concept that I have been becoming more and more aware of and understanding of its peace and its comfort and its importance. It has become a very important fact to me. Abiding with. Abiding in. I abide in God's love; God abides with me. We show true love and respect to one another when we abide with each other. It is a place of peace and trust.