There were three signs on the bear enclosure:

* DO NOT FEED THE BEARS
* DO NOT TAUNT THE BEARS
* DO NOT USE ASTROTELEPATHIC COMMUNICATION TO ACHIEVE INTERGALACTIC ONE-NESS WITH THE BEARS

The first I could understand, as the diets of captive animals must contain a balanced mix of nutritional ingredients to ensure their comfort and longevity. The second I also understood, as the very thought of unecessarily aggravating or distressing a captive being is anathema to me. The third, however, gave me no small degree of consternation.

What many people do not know about bears is that nothing brings ursa majoras more joy than transcending the metaphysical and projecting their genetic conscious though the tumultuous currents of the unknowable ether. They love it more than the reassuring weight of a salmon beneath their paws as they launch it from the rushing currents of a fresh water stream. They love it more than caves.

I lowered myself into the bear put on an ancient wooden ladder that creaked loudly with every step, the noise stark even against the rustling of leaves as the night breeze caressed every inch of darkness it could touch. As my feet found the reassuring solidity of the hard packed dirt I heard their approach; a chorus of snuffling that grew louder and louder as three lumbering shapes materialised slowly out of the black.

The largest of the three, a huge brute with a pelt of coarse, foul-smelling brown fut reared up before me, dwawrfing me as it perched precariously upright on short, thick legs better suited to it's quadrupedal existence. A low, rumbling growl issued from deep within it's throat, so deep that I could feel it vibrating throughout my entire body. But I was not afraid.

'Wait,' I said, raising my arms with palms held out in a pacifying gesture. The growl began rising to a roar, and beast bared it's teeth in a snarl. 'I mean you no harm, great one. I merely wish to achieve intergalactic one-ness with you.'

All tension fled from the creature as it sank back to all fours and padded amicably to where I stood, followed by it's two companions. We sat in a circle on the ground with the largest bear facing me, the others flanking as they rested on their haunches. We each eached out our hands or paws towards the centre and began to hum or growl very softly depending on species. I closed my eyes and let myself drift on the sounds, breathing in the crisp night time air and inhaling the earthy aromas of the great beasts.

At once I found myself spiralling through conscious existence, my mind linked to those of the bears, witnessing through the astral projection of the genetic memory all that it ever was and ever will be to be bear. From the lowliest cub, runt of the litter, forced to fight to survive on scare scraps of food left behind by it's stronger siblings, to the largest male polar bear who ever lived, an enormous shaggy white king among his kind, scourge of every seal and penguin in his frozen territory and never bested by another living creature. I saw it all.

As the years, then centuries, and even millenia passed I came to know what it is to be a bear. I came to know the joy of breaking open a beehive, to the fear of eagles streaking down from above to rake soft flesh with vicious talons. To forage for berries in the underbush when game is scarce, then to prey on dear and elk, enjoying the bloody warmth of recently dead flesh parting wetly between massive canine teeth. I knew it all, and it was glorious.

Finally, as my journey through time and space seemed to speed up to a spiralling blur, a kaelidoscope of sound, scent and sensation, my mind was cast out into the depths of space where I found myself before the great constellation Ursa Major itself. The sheer scale of the thing was impossible to comprehend, a bear so massive it's very existence was written not in terrestrial flesh and bone, but by a collection of stars held together by sheer will in the unimaginably vast vacuum of a cold, empty universe.

Floating there before it, the void dwelling personification of an entire species, their maker, their God, I was nothing more than a speck of dust far too small to even be recognised as a sentient being. I had never felt so insignificant, and I began to fear that I might not be able to retain my own consciousness in the face of such overwhelming grandeur. Even if I did not lose my mind at being faced with a being composed of all the beauty of not just stars, not just planets, but several entire galaxies shining out in a plethora of light and colour, how could I possibly find my way back to my physical form? For a moment I knew what it was to be truly alone in the universe. And I was afraid.

But then came a low growling deep within my mind, joined by two more undulating voices that grew louder as a felt the link the my companions back on earth strengthen. And suddenly, there they were, the three bears I had formed the circle with, floating next to me in the void, their forms glowing gold and incandescent against the infinite black nothingness of space.

As I gazed around I saw the forms of dozens, and then hundreds more bears appear with us, each shining in a different colour and emitting continuous low growls in harmony with one another. The light became almost too much to bear as the spirit forms of every meditating bear in the universe sought to unite in loving worship of their cosmic deity.

The combined song appeared to reach the great bear itself, and Ursa Major turned it's vast, solar-system sized head, to peer down at her subjects. There, as all of bear-kind gave praise to the mother of their past, present and future, she too began to join the chorus of low growls in a song so beautiful and moving that I felt my throat tightening and my eyes fill with tears. The low humming melody seemed to continue for eons as the burning light of the great-mother's eyes turned to each of her children in turn to offer them her blessing, until her gaze at last landed on me. Yet there was no malice in those eyes, only understanding.

With the merest hint of a nod, I was accepted as a guest, a traveller who had come to experience the essence of bear out of curiosity and respect. At that moment, I knew I would be accepted as a friend to all bears for the rest of my life.

***

A cold breeze caressed my face, waking me from my trance as my conscious returned to it's mortal husk. At once I felt both a great sense of knowing and belonging, yet also a greater sense of loss at having to return to the plain of the flesh after basking in the majesty of such a being. The soft packed earth beneath my hands was both a welcome return to safety, and an unwelcome reminder of the limitations of the mortal coil.

The bears were already moving, shuffling away into the darkness back to wherever they slept. A part of me yearned to follow them, to learn more of their ways, to live out the remainder of my life as I had lived the lives of so many bears during the combining of consciousness before meeting the bear god. Yet I knew that I could not, for although the great mother bear had graced me with her favour, I was still only a guest, a traveller. Although I knew them as perhaps no other human ever had, I could still not be them.

With a sigh, I pushed myself to my feet and began to ascend the rickety ladder back to the world of man.