Black Bears - A poem

By Cindy Newton

In the heart of Wekiva's sprawling green,

Where ancient oaks stand tall and serene,

The black bears roam with grace and might,

Under the silvery cloak of night.

With fur as dark as midnight's veil

They lumber softly along the trail,

Through tangled vines and ferns so bright,

In search of berries, their sweet delight.

The river whispers, a gentle song,

Where nature's creatures all belong,

And in the shadows, they find their space,

These silent giants, in their sacred place.

Cubs dart playfully near their side,

In the dappled sun, they run and slide,

Learning life in the forest's embrace,

In Wekiva's cradle, a wild, tender grace.

The chorus of crickets, the rustle of leaves,

The rustling whispers of nature's thieves,

Every footfall a song, every breath a prayer,

For the magic that thrives in the cool, crisp air.

So, here's to the black bears, so bold, so true,

Guardians of secrets in the morning dew,

May they wander forever, both wild and free,

In the Wekiva Basin, where they're meant to be.