When the Bear Comes to My Garden
Martha Courtot
When the bear comes to my garden
I will be ready
I will soak my body in olive oil and honey
I will wear nothing but sunflowers in my hair
I will sit surrounded by talking stones
I will let them speak for me
when the bear comes to my garden
When the bear comes
he will have a strong appetite
he will show white teeth sharpened on my history
he will make large footprints across the cucumber plants
he will trample down the well-turned earth
he will wash his strong bear scent over the whole garden
he will scare the birds away
When the bear comes to my garden
I will put down my poems
I will plant the trowel of my work deep
I will wait for his furred embrace
I will cry no more
When the bear comes to my garden
we will dance then
our voices rising like leaves borne aloft
our bodies swaying under an invisible net
he will press himself against me
he will be my last passion
we will fall earthward
down into the deep cave
forsaking metaphor finally
we will look at each other for the first time
home, he will whisper home, I will answer
we will hum like bees at summer’s height
in the morning when you find us wrapped around each other
we will already have disappeared into the stars
Martha Courtot © 1995
This Frenzy 
Love this poem! And I am just remembering that a bear has come to my garden (10 years ago) on my 50th birthday. What a blessing.
Oh dear Elliot, Thank you for hosting this site that include the work of our beloved Martha Courtot. Martha was my favorite poet. Because she was (also) my friend, because I knew her flesh and bone, heart and soul, her mystic catholicism, ferocious politics, her sexy full lips and sauntering walk. Because she was a loyal Leo and, once you made the cut, you were hers forever. Martha. Loved. Women. Martha LOVED Women. And she loved her children, her partners, her friends, spirit, literature, nature and the women in our community. I went looking for one of her poems tonight. I know I have a copy somewhere but can’t find it so thought I’d do a search. It has to do with “And the angel said “choose”. and nothing was ever the same”. And it had a phrase about “lit up from within like a house full of lovers” or something like that. If you have it at your tender fingertips and want to offer it up (before Friday night), I’d be much obliged. Thank you again for hosting this site and offering Martha to me yet again… With love, Hrieth
Hrieth – I am, slowly, working on a short bio of Martha to add to reprints of her work. I have permission from her daughter to gather letters and other items. Might you be interested in a phone interview?