Lion's Breath

Between his paws

There's a fierce comfort.

Protected, fragile, penetrable,

I wait.

His breath reassuring:

Sweet, meaty, husky, 

Warm against my neck and cheek and ear.

His eyes fixed, smug, confident,

Betray no uncertainty

About his charge.

I am dead-still,

And can do nothing

But breathe with him.

I listen, and feel, 

And rise and fall 

With his breathing.

Its warmth and rhythm 

Are my ledge to stand on,

All I can cling to.

Bounded by his thick, velvety, golden arms,

I might be but a trifle.

And yet this suspense

Before his authority

Is all I could want.