I Am Not the Lion's Roar
(A Personal Confession)
The lion's roar?
It is like the sudden yell of thunder
When quiet is the night
And such a sound of nature's wonder
Causes one to jump in fright.
It is the sound that tells a story
Of a warrior great and brave
That conquers fear and claims the glory
Of not becoming sorrow's slave.
But I...
I am more like the quiet one
That stands by the silent shore
And watches the waves meet the land,
I am not the lion's roar.
Though I believe that there is hope
That dwells within tomorrow,
I will not lie
Still tears I cry
And trapped am I
In sorrow.
Brave am I?
No, brave I seem
For truly deep within
Bravery is a wish
A dream
A prize I hope to win.
I am like a tender song
A baby's lullaby
That soothes its soul the whole night long,
No lion's roar am I.
I am more like the soft caress
Of a breeze in summer heat
The helping hand that reaches out
To the poor one on the street.
I am just a gentle seed
The hands of God have planted,
An innocent wish of hope and faith
Asking to be granted.
Perhaps I may be weak to some
Who say I am the lamb.
The feeble, little, silent one
But I am
Who I am...
And if one day you come to me
When happiness is no more
I pray somehow that I will be
The hope you're searching for,
For I am more like the quiet one
That stands by the silent shore;
Nothing like a roll of thunder.
I am not the lion's roar.
~T.S. Wilkins~
