Our beloved bear savior
Becoming man with man in mind.
While Nero's fire is burning still
The mother's constant womb is
Every minute changing shape.
This moment is not race but
Every bit as bread in bone,
Knowing not the shape of his robe
In times of betrayal,
Or the comfort of home.
He wore it like leather
And delicate lace,
So when fate took him
He lingered and smiled.
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