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I KNOW WHY THE TIGER SITS
Every night the tiger, that part of me
Takes a walk.
We walk down what is now a highway, yet before were
All tress and beauty.
We walk a long distance.
Felling no pain, no weather, nothing but the fortitude and heaviness
Of what needs to be done.
Some have said they see me as a lioness,
Caring for her fragile, yet powerful young, yet I know.
I am a tiger. Yellow, orange, full of beauty and power.
I know why the tiger sits.
That part of me that goes to that place every night and sits there.
My protector.
Lately, the tiger sits next to the wolf that is already there.
Neither bothering the other, just there protecting.
The pair, not normally interchangeable, but in this case they are one.
I know why the tiger sits.
She sits to instill the freedom she fought for.
