Warn the town, the beast is loose.
His teeth dripping with the dreams of his victims.
His paws leaving silent prints of “I’ll get to it later” or “I’ll sleep in tomorrow, I deserve it.”
The resistance, our greatest enemy, the antagonist of our souls.
The lion, roaming to and fro, seeking whom it may devour.
It is insidious how he operates, preying on our fear, our insecurity, our practical rationalizations.
Of course we need to eat, of course we need to sleep, of course we are afraid of the unknown.
He stretches out and sleeps, resting in knowing our humanity and fear tend to get the best of us.
He purrs when we procrastinate.
He licks his lips when we are afraid.
Fear isn’t our real problem, the lion uses it as a curtain to hide behind.
If we knew all we are, if we only caught a glimpse of all we were born to accomplish
The lion knows there would be no stopping us.
So he roars, he bares his teeth when we start to wake up from our status quo induced slumber.
He charges when we dare to do something we have never done before.
When we tap into something greater than ourselves.
We are strong, we are unstoppable, we have the ability to kill the lion every day, every moment
You see, the lion sees all we are, and is terrified.
The lion knows us; he can see our true selves.
The lion knows the truth: we are 100 feet tall.
So it does everything to convince us
We are 100 feet small.
We were taught how to submit.
We learned how to fit in and not stick out
So as not to wake the beast.
We are taught cage making.
We learned how to live in a cage of our own design.
A human zoo to delight the beast.
But as easily as we learned to be tamed, there is something else happening.
Cage doors are springing open, people in the exhibit are missing.
Whispering: There is another way to live.
We choose. We decide to be food and eventual dung of the lion.
Or we choose to fight and kill it dead.
[Poem #10. Image by Chris Devers via Flickr and a Creative Commons License.]