Sunday, 7 February 2016

The Brown Bear


Dear Reader,
                                                                        A Unicorn

I have been reading a book about a man who went on an expedition to the Himalayas hoping to see a Snow Leopard, or, even less likely, a Yeti.  But I discovered that the Yeti or Abominable Snowman doesn't exist if truth be known.  No-one has ever really seen one in the Himalaya region of Nepal and Tibet or anywhere else for that matter.  So the Yeti is a legend due to lack of conclusive evidence of its existence, although people have seen large apes and large bears for which it has been mistaken. 
Then there is the unicorn.  Another legendary creature to confuse me.  It is said that when Noah gathered two of every kind of animal, he neglected to gather the unicorns, which is why they don't exist today and, of course, why nobody has seen one.

I find legends very mystifying, particularly the story of King Arthur.  I have never quite worked out whether he was a real flesh-and-blood king or simply an imaginative good read. I have seen the Knights' Round Table at Tintagel but nevertheless...

I myself do, in fact, talk to my teddy bear, Aristotle, and although I know somewhere in my head that he can't hear me or understand what I am saying, a part of me is strangely under the illusion that he can.  Is this perhaps how legends start?

                                                                             *


The Brown Bear

lies on the floor,
the rocking chair still,
the house mute,
the children gone.

Three months of silence,
as boarding school houses my children,
the woman thinks.
How will I endure the emptiness,
the ache of missing them,
not being of comfort?

She sees the bear's blue jersey
is torn, has large holes in it,
like the large holes in her heart.
She picks up the bear,
holds him tight,
pours herself a drink.


                                                                         *

Very best wishes, Patricia

2 comments:

Eugenie Teasley said...

Aristotle! I remember him so well. I really like this poem, especially the lines about the holes. xx

Emma said...

A lovely mention of the lovely brown bears I loved so dearly when I was little too! They hold such a sentimental value. xxx