Slowly "I" awaken. I do not understand.

Yet my cells call to the memories within them.

Slowly "we" form a consciousness that is not

Instinct but more than instinct. Over many years,

And many experiences do "I" awaken. I begin

To sense the pattern of the seasons. Not just

By rote, but by anticipation do I begin the

Rite of hibernation by slowly shedding my

Plumage of green. My fruit I give now lovingly,

Not withholding any, for the benefit of myself

And the creatures that partake thereof. I sense

The life in each seed that is placed within the earth

And I call it forth: "Be fruitful and multiply

According to the pattern that is within you".

Slowly there emerges a pattern that I know

But cannot know: energy surrounding "me"

Set in layers that define potentials yet untouched;

A fully-formed intelligence. I become aware

Of my profound nature. I call out to the Source

I am evolving; changing. Yet my vehicle declines.

The ravages of time take their toll; "I" must

Leave; I know not where. Yet I am alive!

Now I see myself in the pool as I look for

Food along the lakeshore. Strange memories.

How did I get here? Who am I, anyway?

Greybear