I Am the Bear

I do not rush.
The world can wait.

I was born from seasons,
from snow that remembers footsteps,
from fire that teaches when to rest.
My strength is not loud.
It is patient.

I stand where fear slows down.
Where breath becomes honest.
Those who meet my eyes feel it
the weight of being seen without judgment.

I carry the dark the way earth carries roots.
Not to hide them,
but to hold them steady.

When anger comes, I do not chase it away.
I let it pass through my chest
until it learns its true name:
Grief is asking to be protected.

I know when to fight.
I know when to sleep.
That knowing is my power.

The ancestors speak to me in long silences.
In caves.
In winter.
In the moments when the heart stops pretending to be small.

If you feel drawn to me,
It is not because you need more strength.
It is because you are ready to stand still
and trust it has already grown.

I am the Bear.
I do not follow the path.

I become it.