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Strength & Her Lion

I sit patiently in the meadow, waiting. The lion circles on the periphery of my vision, proud, but he is also limping, bleeding. For all his regality, he has lost at something, and now he is wary, alert to any additional threat.

I will not chase you, Lion. I will continue to wait, and when you see that I am calm and still, perhaps you will come close enough to allow me to take the thorn from your paw, the broken sword points from where they remain embedded in your heart. I can help you, and am willing, but I will not force you to accept my aid.

Come to me, and I will heal you.



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