Poems

The Lioness Woke

The lion sleeps tonight
Or is she sedated
As my pulse raced her body vibrated.

I felt it
I knew it
But they wouldn’t listen
And all of a sudden I saw her eyes glisten.

A lick of her lips
Shuddering stretch of a paw
She sprang out of her hammock and onto the floor.

Diving straight for my body
Determined to shred me
I was pinned to the walls of the cage where they’d laid me.

I held her face tightly
Her eyes burned mine through
As I struggled to hold what I knew she could do.

Once more to the lions
I’m thrown just to see
What next would transpire between this cat and me.

I breathe to my centre
Hold open my heart
Regard her with love and she stops with a start.

A sniff of my hand
A slow blink of an eye
We share a connection this big cat and I.

She chooses to settle
Lies down by my side
The crowd’s expectations are flatly defied.

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“To believe in something, and not to live it, is dishonest.”~ Mahatma Gandhi

I believe in love.

The evolutionary spark, the life force.

The heart’s voice, the knowing that comes from beyond thought.

The inspiration, the jolt of energy, my highest excitement.

The whispers of my soul.

I feel the little fox unfurl by the fire of my heart, basking in the light, sleekly out into the dark, wary and vigilant. Why not leap and bound and roll down the muddy banks of life into the silken icy streams? Why not howl?

Each time my vulpine friend peeks out, I urge her to be brave and tear shrieking through the woodland, chase the sunlight, roll and scratch on the rocks, tumble into the rapids. Still she only creeps, two steps forward one step back: now bold, inquisitive, provoking, testing the electricity in the air… now recoiling, lashed and afraid from the storm, now weeping into deep wet fur.  But we are young, and the world is unfolding. The howl is rising in perfect time for spring, winter hibernation seduces her now. The deep dark solitude of the den.

There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues.They are messengers of overwhelming grief…. and unspeakable love. – Washington Irving

“Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won’t either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself you tasted as many as you could.” ~ Louise Erdich, The Painted Drum