And so it is, the way it always has been
since ancient times,
the air, thick with grey smoke and unspoken words and exhausted
it’s her eyes that captivate me the most, stoic and somber
the gaze of a lioness
in between ravine of possibilities and homeland possesses a confident,
and unhurried grace—cloaked in longer sultry days.
Comforting myself with the idea, I try and envision myself right there;
when things hurt, let them hurt,
we are refueling ourselves to become a better version,
new day, new sky, the ocean and the hills, ever the same, ever evolving—
embodiment of the moment and eternal combined.
In quietude, I sensed something shattering, but wait, it’s not the glass
from the table,
nor is it from the lounge, what is it then?
A serene detachment, a lioness in every sense displays an endless variety of moods,
lonely and majestic, the right side of the brain is her domain
from where she presides over the left side of the body;
she embodies creativity, imagination, vision and resourcefulness, and
just like that
the source from where the noise came presents itself, the deepest of doubt
will fashion the strongest of believers, give not your goldenrod soul to it.
Like infinite pages of a book,
her paw prints make their way into the subconscious,
digging meticulously; the rest is merely an illusion, melting.
Photo credits: “The Love Letter, 1883” by Auguste Toulmouche,
Kim hosts at dVerse and invites us to write in the first person that
compares some trait of ours with something animal. She says the
title should be the same way Marjorie Saiser chose “The Print
the Whales Make.” Come join us! 💝
Posted for Poetics: “The print the whales make,” @ dVerse Poets Pub