A batch of cubs bending the grass completing their sleeping task
Past, and future, present tense their smiling teeth reflect their motives to wear ugly masks
To catch all they can in their claws as they clasp They're cubs of wrath
Momma bear never gave them the warm bath
They don't lick their paws and were not taught how to bathe
They cannot crawl on their own might and do not know how to behave
They are not mature-knowing only how to fret
They have not even opened their eyes yet
They all long to grow but not all do so
Go to the stream where the sleep padded meadows don't lean towards me
The clippings point away and the pine needles point directly up
For the first time I realize it is not about me
I was a hibernating, grizzly pup
But now I am hydrated and the Lord has filled my cup
I don't care if I have a bed
Let's all glorify this fountain instead
To feel small in this world and sing (brings joy, brings peace, from a God of hope)
A heavenly apathy relieves from everything
All thought is cast away