Lion in the Streets

 

Truth is I’ve been burnt before

Hot white scars on sensitive skin

Truth is I’ve been told “no more”

Only to begin again

And maybe [Just Maybe] there’s a Lion in the Streets

Waiting to devour me

Rip this thumping hope in my chest

To  shredded paper sheets

 

And maybe that recycled strain will rain down fertile and make it plain

For what doesn't kill you could make you bleed

If you face that Lion in the Streets

 

And maybe if I close the door

I won’t have to face it anymore

And instead of possibilities

I could cover myself in satin sheets.

I could cover myself in woolen “what-ifs”

I could cover myself in ancient myths

I could cover myself in disbelief

In fear of that Lion in the Streets

In fear of what could, or couldn’t be

In fear of what I find incomplete

In fear of never living my dream

In fear of fearing what it seems

Like.

 

Truth is, I could change my everything

Try and control my every change

Try and change my every control

Group my things and my wishes

Plug the walls with inhibitions

Take my life of indecision

Brick my heart up to the limit

Limit my truth and limit my freedom

Question everything I believe in

Throw away the key to reason

Wonder why I can’t be pleased, then

Find my nothing in fertile season

Lament my ways and call it treason

Cause there’s a Lion in the Street

And I am bleeding

But it’s my jaws that did the kneading

Dough is rising,

Plans devising,

And I contemplate compromising

Where I stand and how I sleep

To avoid that Lion in the Street.

[is it me?]

- - - - -

 

So I sit.

On my hands I sit.

Can’t even twiddle my thumbs

Can’t say my hands are tied

I can just complain they’re numb

My paralysis is a crime

Not a tragedy if you sum

Sum up every moment

 Into wondering: what’s to come

No time to move

No time to breathe

Didn't you hear that Lion in the Street?

Better stop

Better sleep

For tomorrow it will be...

 

A better time

A brand new day

A whole new world

An unknown way

And I’ll conquer it, maybe

But now

I’ll block, I'll lock, I'll rot my mind until it is "safe", until it is "time"

For "One Day’s" opportunity.

Hush now, can’t you hear it?

Wait now, don't draw near it. 

 

It’s gonna Ro-oa-oa-oa-oar.

And you will hear it, and fear it.

You best let the fright tuck you in tight

You’d have wings if you were meant for flight

You’d be a different kind of breed

For what doesn't kill you could make you bleed

You could suffer much if you concede

If you face that Lion in the Streets.

 

 

Truth is I’ve been here before

Cold black scars on calloused skin

Walls broken down “no more”

Only to begin again.

 

 

These artistic contributions are a devotional practice honoring Storytelling.  When we engage in Story, we learn self-compassion, expansiveness, desire, grief, presence, and community.