Long ago, when the stars were young,
And the sky had not yet learned silence,
Bear walked alone through the forest of beginnings—
Great and black as midnight's breath.
But Bear was not empty.
Inside his chest, a small light pulsed:
The spirit of Rabbit,
Born from the first moon’s heartbeat.
Rabbit was the Listener,
Keeper of paths unseen.
It was he who taught Bear
To dream while waking,
To follow the wind without question.
Together they crossed the sky’s first snowfall,
Chanted to rivers until they sang,
Danced with the trees until they wept leaves of gold.
People say:
When the world forgets,
When the balance breaks,
Bear rises again with Rabbit glowing in his chest,
To remind the land of old stories—
And teach the night to breathe.
So when you see a shadow deep and quiet,
And the stars shimmer like drumbeats,
Know this:
Bear still walks.
And Rabbit still listens.
And the story has never ended.
