thought i’d never get this poem written

(viii strength)
in rags or robes. she is always regal.
chronic pain. depression. but always sweet
endurance. nobody would ever know.
she is always smiling. always gracious.
the road is long & the mountains rise high
into the sky. she journeys towards the snow.

in some decks strength is eleven. but the
meaning is the same. she is still taming
a lion. sometimes she is sitting or
lying with the cat. sometimes the cat is
a panther or a kitten. but she is
always showing a complete lack of fear.

the tamed lion she names jack. together
they live in a house filled with purring cats.

© polly macdavid

cross-posted at http://silverapplequeen.blogspot.com/