For thirty five years I have tried to tame the lion in my back yard, but I have decided to relax and enjoy its wildness.
Your wildness is something else - it is prickly like brambles reaching out with thorn like claws. It is tangled like bindweed, wrapping and smothering. And when the ground is parched dry, and gaping open to drink the rain that doesn't come, you limply wait and wilt. In the Springtime, when the days lengthen and the air warms, you shake your mane and for a while you are perfection. For all the time I've taken to make you mine, and for all the changes I have wrought, I wouldn't trade you for a feline friend with preened fur and clean habits. I'd rather have a lion in my backyard.