Bear A bear stands in the forever forest.  Still and confused he watches me from a few mouthfuls away. The bear is mustard brown, roughed with fluff.   I don’t know him, though the thick, bunched leaves whisper I do. I wonder about him. Has he known me?   We look long and kindly at each other. Can I slowly walk to him and rest my body, my head against his belly and feel his fluffy powerful arms wrap me?   —everywhere silence except the sound of our longings, of our hearts.   Caroline Smith Glen   Becoming a Mother  Between…