Small Prilgrimage

Misty paths
Newly revealed
Receding floods
Ancient bedded
Found roads
Some small trace
A hint
You had been
A gracefully
Curved stem
Sinuous in
Falling rain
Flowers early
Washed away
Tiny seeds nuts
Fruits children
Fallen petals
A mosaic of memory
Shuffled stirred
Forest creatures
Or lingering
As do we all
Feathers one
Kind and another
Tell stories
Of care
Work of love
Turning of cycles
In all directions
Beloved and lover
Acolyte and wisdom
The nomad migrant
Lives always
Home is shelter
Punishing instruction
Drifting as a
Lost peregrination
Guiding wind touches
Her unseen beauty
Whispering silence
Creating direction
Dispersing time
Covered concealed
By itself
By the fallen
Eons written
In all colors
Morning sky
Among roots
Trees lend voice
To the voiceless
Sharing rain’s song
The language of wind
The silence of knowing
The stillness
Waiting within
Spiraling season’s
Small pilgrimage
Bear … 02.28.2015


Angel’s Tears

Whose song shall I sing
When the voices of trees
Loose language?
Shall there be a song
Of wild winds howling through
Dead branches and empty sky?

May I sing of star memories,
Those eons of lonesome brightness,
Uncountable in their vastness?

Are there ballads recounting
Tales when there was nothing,
Before the birth of time?

Can I sing about tomorrow
Before our own wane sun rises
Coldly burning away all hope?
Will you allow that I
May sing a lullaby of nonsense,
To sooth our sleepless dreams?
Oh My Love, I foolishly cry
My song through my unspoken words.
Who listens to hear silent music?
The chorused pain of Angels sings,
In roaring silence, resonance
Periods too long for corporal ears.
But I do see in the darkness,
Sparkling and dazzling rainbows
Of whirling Angel’s tears.

Mad Sister Songless Circle Dance

My one-eyed one-toothed three Sisters Gris
With their banshee wild-woman screaming
Banging drum greeting here at home in me arrive
They’re whispering yell shrieking sister secrets
Of mayhem and death that none can survive
We are the wasted and useless and ugly
Unwanted together we gather singing nightmares
While circling ever spinning vertigo circling dance round
Gyrating and cramping in a choreographed seizure of no care
Un-rested and crashing my sisters and I we are dancing
And quietly silently ululating dancing aloud our dissonant
Hopeless eternal unheard Mad Sister Songless Circle Dance
Bear … 02.09.2014

ⓒ Bearspawprint

Waiting for the Miracle — Leonard Cohen



Baby, I’ve been waiting,
I’ve been waiting night and day.
I didn’t see the time,
I waited half my life away.
There were lots of invitations
and I know you sent me some,
but I was waiting
for the miracle, for the miracle to come.
I know you really loved me.
but, you see, my hands were tied.
I know it must have hurt you,
it must have hurt your pride
to have to stand beneath my window
with your bugle and your drum,
and me I’m up there waiting
for the miracle, for the miracle to come.

Ah I don’t believe you’d like it,
You wouldn’t like it here.
There ain’t no entertainment
and the judgements are severe.
The Maestro says it’s Mozart
but it sounds like bubble gum
when you’re waiting
for the miracle, for the miracle to come.

Waiting for the miracle
There’s nothing left to do.
I haven’t been this happy
since the end of World War II.

Nothing left to do
when you know that you’ve been taken.
Nothing left to do
when you’re begging for a crumb
Nothing left to do
when you’ve got to go on waiting
waiting for the miracle to come.

I dreamed about you, baby.
It was just the other night.
Most of you was naked
Ah but some of you was light.
The sands of time were falling
from your fingers and your thumb,
and you were waiting
for the miracle, for the miracle to come

Ah baby, let’s get married,
we’ve been alone too long.
Let’s be alone together.
Let’s see if we’re that strong.
Yeah let’s do something crazy,
something absolutely wrong
while we’re waiting
for the miracle, for the miracle to come.

Nothing left to do …

When you’ve fallen on the highway
and you’re lying in the rain,
and they ask you how you’re doing
of course you’ll say you can’t complain —
If you’re squeezed for information,
that’s when you’ve got to play it dumb:
You just say you’re out there waiting
for the miracle, for the miracle to come.

Coat Of Many Colors

COAT OF MANY COLORS —-  Dolly Parton

Back through the years
I go wonderin once again
Back to the seasons of my youth
I recall a box of rags that someone gave us
And how my momma put the rags to use
There were rags of many colors
Every piece was small
And I didn’t have a coat
And it was way down in the fall
Momma sewed the rags together
Sewin every piece with love
She made my coat of many colors
That I was so proud of
As she sewed, she told a story
From the bible, she had read
About a coat of many colors
Joseph wore and then she said
Perhaps this coat will bring you
Good luck and happiness
And I just couldnt wait to wear it
And momma blessed it with a kiss

My coat of many colors
That my momma made for me
Made only from rags
But I wore it so proudly
Although we had no money
I was rich as I could be
In my coat of many colors
My momma made for me

So with patches on my britches
Holes in both my shoes
In my coat of many colors
I hurried off to school
Just to find the others laughing
And making fun of me
In my coat of many colors
My momma made for me

And oh I couldnt understand it
For I felt I was rich
And I told them of the love
My momma sewed in every stitch
And I told em all the story
Momma told me while she sewed
And how my coat of many colors
Was worth more than all their clothes

But they didn’t understand it
And I tried to make them see
That one is only poor
Only if they choose to be
Now I know we had no money
But I was rich as I could be
In my coat of many colors
My momma made for me
Made just for me


a bit from my youth and a song that reminded me

I saw this video with the Civil Wars song The One that Got Away,  which took me back to a certain period in my youth when I lived out of a back pack, and did indeed hop trains.  The trains were in Canada, I hitch-hiked In the USA.  My own experiences were  somewhat different from this girl’s, yet essentially  similar.  I thought to share a little of that time.

I had some different items that I carried about and used.   I had a sleeping bag,  a small pot, teaspoon, and cooking spoon, toothbrush, paper, pencils, pens.  wet stone , pocket knife, scissors and large eye needles and crochet  thread, hat, matches, canteen with clean water, and extra water bottle inside backpack. And an easily assessable, very sharp, hatchet attached to exterior of my back pack. Wash cloth and small hand towel.  5 or 6 clean bandannas.  Clean bandannas make an excellent first aid kit.  Useful for everything.  Long-Johns and a light jacket. 2pr Navy surplus work jeans, and 2 Navy surplus chambray work shirts.  Long sleeves, as there are mosquitoes everywhere. 5 or 6 pairs of good socks  4 set of my style, at that time,  undies, and I wore a pair of boys work boots rather than hiking boots.  At that time they were cheaper, lasted longer, better traction, came up higher over my ankles,  and had  room for two pairs of thick socks.

For food, and I never ran out, even though I shared ???? dunno how :  beef  bullion cubes, tea, brown rice, salt, pepper, garlic, usually some honey or sugar for the tea, and vitamins.   Sometimes canned salmon or mackerel.  Additionally I had rocks in the bottom of my pack (souvenirs and keep sakes) and some books. Oh and a ground-cloth tarp which doubled as rain cover the back pack and gear.

Not once did I ever have such a big fire, as depicted in the movie clip.  Even with company.  And I didn’t flirt with strangers.  My purpose (yes I had a purpose) was to take in as much scenery and wonderfulness as possible before it was no longer possible for me.  I was blessed.

I’m not so sure such a independent life could be lived now.  Not the (relatively speaking) care free, wild, and happily peaceful (with notable exceptions)  time that I had.  I wanted to stay everywhere.  Everywhere was beautiful. I did encounter fear, evil, and danger.  But more prevalent was beauty and goodness.   Beautiful families of many ethnic backgrounds offered to “adopt” me.

This was such an  entirely different part of my life that I seldom think or speak of it.  This little film clip and wonderful song brought a flood of memories.

I used that crochet thread to decorate my jacket and shirts and mend and decorate my backpack.  I still have the backpack.  Maybe I shall blog about this again. And picture that back pack that has traveled so many thousands of miles.

Civil Wars   The One that Got Away

Music video by The Civil Wars performing The One That Got Away. (c) 2013 sensibility recordings LLC, under exclusive license to Columbia Records, a division of Sony Music Entertainment

This from the comments  AR is Arkansas  :

Hi I am the GurL in the video Claud_Davila (Claudia Davila) I read all the comments and Wow 🙂 thank u for all the positivity This is a Great Band and I am so Lucky to be in there video, it was shot as a film, not ur typical MV Tom Haines as the Director!!!! It was a huge production so many amazing people worked on this non stop 24hr 2wks or more, I came on towards the end 5 days to shot the whole thing, a lot went into this! it was shot in various places in Beautiful AR 🙂