Waking
Unbidden or
at times, bidden
bear shadows appear
usually in glimpses
a tease between trees
or perhaps
on old snow
where tracks swell velveteen,
softened like starlight
in the melting.
Break up
is too harsh a word
for the giving way
too brittle for the mosses
that once frozen, now
breathe
in exhales invisible,
whispered
at your cheek.
It is too hard a word
even for bears.
No word is close enough
for the waiting
for the questions
as with each step
your palms tingle
and the opened ground reaches
like spring
for your ear
as if pressing it
to the thawing
could lend words
to a prayer
and release
the bright sounds of our
waking.