And then it rang out. The roar of the lion. The pain; the frustration of a life nearly lived. It rang out through the depths of his soul. From the child. The innocent. The one left behind. The one that no one could see was enough – without the trappings of should-bes and could-bes. On his own – as he was. And the lion roared and the child cried. The lamb that God had sent forth into the world of not-enough, that bright and shining star, had been seen. Had been noticed. Had been heard. Had been saved. Finally. And the lion roared, and the child wept, and man was born.
Deanna Llyn ~ Ð