There Is No Such Thing As A

Women Are Strong, Strong, Terribly Strong. We Don't Know How Strong Until We're Pushing Out Our Babies.

At Times The Whole Sky Was Ringed In Shooting Points And Puckers Of Light Gathering And Falling, Pulsing, Fading, Rhythmical As Breathing. All Of A Piece. As If The Sky Were A Pattern Of Nerves And Our Thought And Memories Traveled Across It. As If The Sky Were One Gigantic Memory For Us All.

We All Got Holes In Our Lives. Nobody Dies In A Perfect Garment.

Our Songs Travel The Earth. We Sing To One Another. Not A Single Note Is Ever Lost And No Song Is Original. They All Come From The Same Place And Go Back To A Time When Only The Stones Howled.

Coming Down Off The Trail, I Am Lost In My Own Thoughts And Unprepared When A Bear Chugs Across The Path Just Before It Gives Out On The Gravel Road. I Am So Distracted That I Keep Walking Towards The Bear. I Only Stop When It Rears, Stands On Hind Legs, And Stares At Me, Sensitive Nose Pressed Into The Air, Weak Eyes Searching. I Have Never Been This Close To A Wild Bear Before, But I Am Not Frightened. There Is No Menace In Its Stance; It Is Not Even Curious. The Bear Seems To Know Who Or What I Am. The Bear Is Not Impressed.