In the sixties he ate the bark off of trees
And everything edible in the forest,
Including insects, roots and flowers.
Never ate those processed foods
So abundant in the western world.
He saw the animals in the forest
As brothers and sisters.
He understood the howls of wolves.
He could interpret the sounds of bears,
And he described himself as a bear whisperer
And considered bears as part of his family.
One day he consumed a bucket of dandelions,
One of his bear relative’s favorite treats.
And his whispers and kinship meant nothing
When the bear smelled the dandelions inside him
And gorged himself on the human dandelion treat,
Like a kid eating a chocolate covered ice cream bar.
Bob Boyd
Author: BobBoyd
Age 80. Cancer survivor since 3 years ago. Work out 3 times a week. Ride my exercise bike 2 hours a day. Live a solo reclusive life. Retired a year ago from working with the elderly in a nonprofit. Started writing poetry a little over a year ago; most poems I write are fictional but some are not. Spiritual with a permanent spiritual experience. Write poems on many subjects. Always researching for many of my poems and because of my unquenchable thirst for knowledge. After reading and hearing about many near death experiences and death bed visions, I believe death is the ultimate awakening and the relocation of a lifetime. You may believe differently, but you have the right to be wrong -- I'm just messing with you. :-)
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