The sovereign lion is a leader
One that wears many hats
Yet something in this moment tells him he is neither
More of a lonely lion at that
Maybe it’s the wildflowers of his past
The grass where he would roam
He senses them quite fast
From the place he used to call home
He hears the whispers and lullabies
In the water he views the sweet reflections of childhood he tried to forget
Summoning the pains of his goodbyes
Just then, a familiar lioness walks by
One like no other
Tears come to each eye
As he embraces his dear mother
