The Lion in the Sunset

The king

As I open the door, the gentle smell of honeysuckle and dry grass reaches my nose. The long grass sways this way and a beautiful ocean of green and almonds, dancing to the tune of the Summer breeze. My white, cotton dress skims across the flowers, and their heads turn away, blushing. I run my fingers along the tips of the grass, and then it’s like my fingers are feeling for the first time. Soft. Gentle.

The rhythmic twittering of birds fills the mauve sky with a lyrical presence. Doves chasing after one another, occasionally kissing the sky with their upwards flocking. The creeping smile lifts my face, my cheeks becoming plentiful with happiness. My almond eyes reflect the passion fruits, the shots of magenta, and the slivers of orange which have decorated the open heavens.

Each eyelash of mine has become distinguished, my pupils dilating to see more of the Light of the Truth, my chest overwhelmed with happiness, and peace. As I turn my head, I see the silhouette of a Lion against the blazing sunset.


With His head upturned in Victory, His mane powerfully rippling in the wind.  His muscles well-toned, and authoritative. Standing in a proud silence. His chest rising and falling steadily. Confidently. No need to roar, or claw anything, because His mere presence is powerful enough to command a deep-rooted respect and awe.

I watch in admiration.

This creature is so majestic.
A natural born-King.

And in that moment, I feel so serene, like every unseen veil of questions have been lifted, and all the truths of the world have come to welcome me warmly with open, magical arms. 


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