I had to let go of your memories
As I did with San Fransisco
With its innocent corners and places
The quaint stores and my shadow

"Does it snow in San Fransisco?"
My little nephew asked
"Not always, but it did long ago"
And my eyes filled with remnants of the past

It hasn't gotten easier, years have gone by
I still remember the golden gate
The sunsets and the pleasant sky
I need you still and in vain I wait
For you to stop by
And steady my pettish state

I tell people that there are two kinds of days.

There will be days where you wake before the sun and roar out into the untouched day, pawing at the ground with a fierce conviction to take your day as you like it. These days, your very footsteps will shake the ground beneath you while your enemies run haphazardly, tripping over their own feet in order to avoid your fearsome self.

There will be days where your ears twitch at the slightest suggestion of confrontation and conflict, and you scurry about your day through the shadows. These days, your frantic heart can't take much of anything, and the vastness of the faraway horizon makes your limbs shudder and quake.

When your day falls into the former category, remember that even as you strut around with your lion-heart, there are timid mice who move hurriedly about your feet. Remember to watch your steps and mind your roars.

When your day is one of the latter, remember that lions aren't necessarily monsters, and know that their claws can be sheathed and their velveted paws can also comfort. They know nothing of soft steps and whispers.

Find comfort in the cacophony of roars and in the solemn silence of tail-twitches.