My blessings looks like
me stuck in a pit,
the hard dirt floor packed down
by the paw prints of lions.
They are all around me,
roaring and fighting,
they’re gashing each other,
and the largest one with blood on his fangs
turns and looks me in the eyes.
I watch him until I fall asleep
And then I awake from the night
warm from the breathe of lions
and the fur of manes.
My fears are all around me but they have not consumed me yet.
That’s what my blessings look like.