Lions, Bullies & Frightening Days & Nights

Well, I have been doing some thinking lately about my childhood. I do this sometimes. Psychologists would probably say I do so because I want to feel sorry for myself. I think it is a trick of the Enemy, that ancient serpent called the devil. Someone said, When the devil reminds you of your past, remind him of his future. That might be to slander celestial beings which is forbidden, but it is somewhat humorous.

I have a collection of three short (first draft) poems that I wrote this past Saturday evening that I want to share with you. I hope you enjoy them.

The Lion's Share

Why can’t you just leave me be?
What do you care?
Does it make you feel stronger,
When your hand’s in my hair?

What is so fascinating
About the way that I look,
That you’re always in my face?
What’s so fascinating,
About the things that I have,
That you always seem to want them?
What is so fascinating,
About the places I go,
That you always seem to be where I am;
As if you’re following me.
And what is so fascinating,
About the things in my mind,
That you always need to know?

You’re hot breath reeks.
The rage in your eyes
Says more about you than me.
I’m in control because you hunt me—
I determine where you go.
I determine what you say.
I determine what you think.
And you cannot stop thinking of me.
I can make you run to places
You’d rather not go.
Because you think I am weak,
Because you don’t understand the meek;
I am in control.

Your only fear is someone bigger than yourself.
But still you fear.
And who looks the fool?
Me because I take your beating?
Or you because you are stronger
Than the bleating?

_____________________________

Some Circle

I remember the day
When the lions breathed down my neck,
When they chased me through the grass,
When they hunted me in a pack.
Today it seems so long ago.
Tomorrow even longer.
I remember the day
When dogs and lions swarmed
Against me, waging an attack.

It seems so long ago,
And yet the hurt and shame still linger.
It seems so long ago,
That I was weaker than
My father’s little finger.
And maybe that is why today,
In the present, so close,
I am afraid to let
My weakness show.

It feels like only yesterday,
That I ran towards the swollen creek.
The water ran fast, and deep
I was singled out: the weak.
The lions—those fierce beasts
Hungry for blood—don’t weep
For their prey; they eat.
They drink. They be merry.
I swear they laughed.

Oh God this hurtful thought
Still streaks across my mind.
The lions chasing me once again—
Searching through my pockets,
What will they find—
Lord will you make them go away?
It’s always the weak who suffer,
Who hunger and thirst.
Here all these years later—
Lord, I will not be a hater—
My heart still breaks.
But not for myself.

Lord my prayers you hear,
My petitions will bend your ear.
What lions can I hunt?
Better, what lambs can I protect?
What small ones require
The strength of an angel,
In the weakness of the flesh?
Lord, my heart breaks for the weak,
Because yours does too.
And, Lord, let me be an instrument
Of Thy peace. And mercy. And grace.

__________________________

The Lion Hunter

I will be a lion hunter,
Not a lion tamer.
Lions need no cage,
But a coffin of earth and dust.
Let them circle back around,
And fall to the ground.
Let them be consumed
By the worms they tread upon.
Let them be laughed at
By the fawns
That walk before their hard,
Empty, dry lifeless eyes.
I will a lion hunter,
A slayer of the slayer,
A killer of the killer,
A destroyer of the destroyer.
Only you, Lord, raise the dead.
Only you, Lord, give life to the
Weak.
Just speak.
And I will hunt.

_________________________

That's all. Try not to think about these too much. They were unguarded moments at around 1 or 2 AM. I was thinking about why God put me on this earth and what my experiences mean in the greater context. That's all.

DG