creative writing

A Past Life

A lion was walking through the long grass one sunny day,
his umber stripes helping hide him against the Summery hues and shadows,
when a little bird, a finch, flew from some neighboring reeds.
The finch stopped before the lion,
held aloft on the breeze that seemed to flow from his mane.
“Aaniin,” said the lion with a warm smile.
“Aaniin,” said the finch with a twitter in her voice.
Then together they continued, and the proud lion strode,
with the rice bird flitting by his side,
singing to him her song.
Thunderous purrs rolled from the great cat’s throat,
and the finch lady danced along,
as if these purrs were the wind beneath her wings.
Their songs of love were heard by all whom they passed
in their journey together,
echoing forevermore.

Benjamin Eren Robinson
© 2008

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This file last edited: May 17, 2008