Ambling along a well-known path through a well-known forest
I cross a tepid creek I’ve swam in dozens of times
Pass an old, weathered tree with my name carved into the side
And turn a sharp bend I know leads to home
But,
I come to a sudden halt as something foreign rises into my sight

A golden lion
Caged by beautiful, deeply rusted wrought iron with thick emerald vines twisting upward toward the sky
Giving the impression it’s been here for years, somehow, without me noticing

From a distance, a seemingly comfortable looking cage, filled with familiar amenities
The lion gazes into a broken mirror resting in the corner
And appears content
But I sense this is all the lion has ever known

I take a timid step into the desolate prison this lion calls his kingdom
I caress his flaxen mane tenderly, for what I know is the first time in a long while  
Trying to depict how glorious it is outside the cage
All the wondrous places I could show him
The joy in feeling fresh air and warm sunshine on his sallow skin
But he roars at me in response, sending a thundering shock through me
Irate that I would ever suggest anywhere in the world could be better than his “luxurious” cage

With that roar, I watch ice splinter outward from his broad chest and creep up his arms
Before settling like a soft blanket of morning frost on his shoulders
It’s suddenly cold and I feel as if I should depart, knowing that he would never ask me to leave himself
But I’ll become complacent too
If I stay here

So I turn away with heavy feet and accept there’s nothing I can do
No light bright enough to make him see
No words loud enough to make him hear

As I grow old and eventually return to the Earth, he stays in his cage and paces for a hundred years
And a hundred more after that
A constant pang of regret filling him to the brim and overflowing from his hungry eyes
Never knowing
Always wondering
With only the white noise of the forest
And the sound of his pounding, lonely heart