Author Archives: Sittingbear

Wishful Thinking

By | December 28, 2010

I want to put you on a pedestal, so that I may sing to you high praises, but I do not have the voice. I want to tell you the greatness you bring, so that I may know the joy you bring me, but I do no have the words. I want to pull you… Read More »


By | November 1, 2010

As I look over my shoulder at the paths I have traveled, I see the bridges I have crossed are broken and fallen. Over the long years that which has not been intentionally burnt, has succumbed to age and neglect. I can look back at the ground I have covered, but my only direction can… Read More »

Are you perennial, or annual?

By | March 6, 2010

There seem to be many people in life who live as if they were annual, they develop for a short period, spread their seed and die. Sometimes it is a slow death, waiting for death accelerated only by the toxins chosen. Sometimes the lack of growth prevents true strength, and they crumble and succumb to various… Read More »


By | January 12, 2010

What is it about winter that causes people to be more thankful? What is it about spring that makes people forget? I find it very strange that starting around November, people become distant, yet friendlier; thankful, yet ungracious. In December people wish each other well, and some take a rare look inwards. And for a… Read More »


By | December 5, 2009

In your mind you feel cold, in your eyes you see frost. In your mind you feel hot, in your eyes you see waving air. In your mind you feel the evil in the world, in your eyes you see the blade penetrate your heart. In your mind you feel love, in your eyes you… Read More »

On Drowning…

By | November 15, 2009

Do those who have tasted death no longer fear it? When I was very young, I drowned while in a pool with no lifeguard on duty. There was only one other person in the pool, and my grandma was on the side watching. I don’t remember feeling any fear or anxiety about dying during or… Read More »

Forest at night

By | October 23, 2009

Always in an envelope, seemingly drifting now awake, the current slows eddies whirl around me, return the physical to me two hands pulling, one of pleasure, with no reward the other of difficulty, unseen mountains to climb