The Lions of the Lord
by Kyle Lehman
The lion roars. His voice rides up the clouds;
And in Your open ears the tones bounce round.
You bend Your back in answer to the sound,
And comb the desert cliffs with silent teeth;
Through home and empty street pass padded feet.
You gather for the beast his tender meat.
Full length You lay him. Then You wind his springs
Through twitching tail and gathered golden hip,
From half hung jaw, bent eye, and trembling lip,
Claw clings, till tingling tension sings, out slings—
His terror galls and grips all creeping things.
Ah! Yours he is, and Yours the hand outstretched;
Yes, Yours the paw, the fallen prey out breath’d.
You own the subjects as You own the kings.
For once in Babylon the lions roared
Their hungry voices bounced through bars unheard
It seemed; for evil turned him round and stirred.
String stretched in silence, sleep was sought in vain.
Against the king, his subjects planned and played,
Yet down in Babylon a humble human prayed.
Injustice wrote the law and set the stone;
Cold courts conspired to feed the mice of men.
The lions roared, none answered them, but then—
As Daniel fell, one shout rang from Your throne,
“Touch not the sweating flesh upon his bone,
He is my own. As you, he does My will
Alone. He is not food; crush not nor kill;
Wait, watch, and pray. And feast tomorrow noon.”
Kyle Lehman is a teacher and poet who loves to watch things grow like seeds, strange ideas, and the moon. He lives with his wife Claudia in Păltiniş, Romania and blogs about teaching at https://apearlineverycowslipsear.wordpress.com.
Photography by Kenneth Godoy