The sky went white as milk.
The thorns grew wider.
Thorns stabbed her body.
She could not go any further.
Release her soul from the little cub's body.
Let her spirits roam the mountain.
Take her. Take her to the bear.
The mouth widened and teeth came down on her.
She leaned willingly into the mouth of breath and pain.
It ate her childhood and made her a bear.
Silence reigned in agony and darkness.
The trails of her footprints ended there.
She remembered the scents of mornings, of blood, and stones.
She had understood the whisper of the winds.
She swam into the river with little fishes.
She danced under the juniper tree.
She talked to the birds above.

She felt mud breathe.
The mountain was hers.

“Mother, eat my childhood”
“Make me a woman”.