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DRAMATIC MONOLOGUE:
The Bear Has an Afterthought
And one last thing
Because I don’t intend another talk like this,
I mean you no harm;
My heart has not turned lightless
Toward humans--
Feeding on you has never been my wish
When salmon and bush berries
Are plentiful in the warm days
Of sun and birdsong.
If you are wise,
You will watch me from a distance
Just at twilight when the sun sets a glow
On my coat like fireflies in wild roses.
And if you listen to the forest’s mystery voice,
Suddenly you will know who I am.
I have cleared the path for a million years,
And compassion is my calling.
When the Spirit’s voice beckons in the pine wind,
I obey her,
And together we care for the young.
Her breath goes with me
Even into my stone grave
When the bitter winter triumphs
Over all that is warm and green.
Her scent stays with me,
And wild lilies grow under the deep snow
Of my dreams.
It is she who calls to rebirth me,
And in the Spirit’s spring of dogwood at dawn
And sunsets of sweet lupine,
I live in grace and peace.
Look for the line of light
That marks my homeland,
A line you cannot cross
Unless you will wear the feather
And call me friend.
Because I don’t intend another talk like this,
I mean you no harm;
My heart has not turned lightless
Toward humans--
Feeding on you has never been my wish
When salmon and bush berries
Are plentiful in the warm days
Of sun and birdsong.
If you are wise,
You will watch me from a distance
Just at twilight when the sun sets a glow
On my coat like fireflies in wild roses.
And if you listen to the forest’s mystery voice,
Suddenly you will know who I am.
I have cleared the path for a million years,
And compassion is my calling.
When the Spirit’s voice beckons in the pine wind,
I obey her,
And together we care for the young.
Her breath goes with me
Even into my stone grave
When the bitter winter triumphs
Over all that is warm and green.
Her scent stays with me,
And wild lilies grow under the deep snow
Of my dreams.
It is she who calls to rebirth me,
And in the Spirit’s spring of dogwood at dawn
And sunsets of sweet lupine,
I live in grace and peace.
Look for the line of light
That marks my homeland,
A line you cannot cross
Unless you will wear the feather
And call me friend.
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