My section is now, of course, covered by words of a poem I wrote focusing on the two front legs of Bear.
I am Bear. I lead in the direction of instinct, safety, nourishment. Eyes, ears, nose and a sense of ground urge responsibility. I move powerfully on steady paws. My legs trustworthy as the trunks of oaks. Not a random pattern, my movements come into the new year. I step on old stone to move forward as determination persuades a new place to hunt, to feed, to stand. In tranquil moments of dirt and clover seeping through perception of lessons learned, a sensual knowledge of delicious sweet berries and painful thorns of caution become the background of my experience. Dawn opens through cloud layers dripping words. A fine mist of letters fall onto a map into the direction I travel. New phrases shadow and filter journey and form the companions that step with me deeper into the hills.