For Ted Kennedy
Did you hear the little lion roar?
Did you see him in the grasslands,
Mane golden like the sandy shore?
Did you see him stride, the spans
That flash across the trees
The wingless eagle on the lees?
Did you know my lion, my game
The hunters stalked to sudden shame?
I found him at the big tree root
His breath was gone, his body still
And flies abuzz callous of the truth:
The hunter silent waits, intent to kill
All as he did my lion, even flies
Dining on this hunter's flesh. Rise
Fallen leaves from your forest floor
Rise with the wind and sorrow pour.
For this jungle now quiet and still
Was by the lion carved and groomed
We were better driven by his will
And those who fell by fate was doomed
Before he panted and proclaim
The dream forever, his love aflame
Golden as the sunset on his mane;
He is gone ... lions too feel the pain.
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