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The Lion
 

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  The Lion
I stand alone, the lion on the plain.
I gather my strength in solitude.
I reckon no animal better than myself.
I am a brother to all creatures,
King of the beasts, protector of all.
Loneliness has cleared the clutter from
        my mind.

I have chosen to be who I am, the lion
        hearted.
I have chiseled my character with each
        aching decision.
I have strained and strengthened my
        heart for the chase.
I have pruned my body to the pursuit of
        my prey.

I am the lion, lean and limber.
Lines of concern for my pride furrow my
        forehead
My yellow gaze catches the glinting sun
        from the waving grass.
My brown tufted tail the scepter over my
        kingdom, my rudder on the run.
 

©Copyright David Tierney, West Bloomfield, MI May 10, 1992