Easter Bear Poem by Alla Bozarth

Eyes of iridescent bornite
unlike your boreal amber-eyed
kin, your blue-fire gaze
is boundless. You come from
indigo ice caverns below sound.
You learn to sing with the whales.

High priest of the Mother,
you stand alone and at sea,
swim for your life or communion
supper, wed the species
you eat.

White Bear vested in light,
paschal beast, ancestor, living
theaphony of Grace, her power
past might radiates in your
agony: alone!

You cry as eerie loons
or gigantic snow owls cry at night —
watery, freezing sounds.
Your voice reverberates over Earth.
In your being, do you still bear
the primal loneliness of God?



This poem is from the book Moving to the Edge of the World
by Alla Renée Bozarth, iUniverse 2000. All rights reserved.