The Raging Bear

what is this trivial mass
where the ambiguous hedges meet
looking into your eyes of glass
your heart so indiscreet
the never ending night
turned into never ending day
the prize on which i have set my sights
turned into the price which i must pay
sweetly sleeping in my thoughts
the hibernating bear
in a wilted field of forget-me-not's
and the smell of smoke in the air
to wake him with fury is my goal
as I poke him with a stick
so that I may ask him to devour me whole
in an attempt to make him sick
for these forces with which i pretend to reckon
will certainly prove me a fool
the warm scent of springtime will beckon
and awaken the raging bear in full