The Birthday Party

 

I can't imagine it was easy for the Goat

When she received the invitation to the April Fool's party,

(Which was of course a birthday party, too)

Knowing the Ram and the Lion would be hosting.

The Goat probably thought she was to be the Fool herself:

The serious one in the corner

As the others frolicked and jousted.

 

The Lion has her quiet moments,

She probably thought

As she readied herself to go,

Trying to forget the Lion’s preening, feline ways;

 

And the Ram keeps things lively,

Not quite remembering that

Those curving antlers clacked and stung.

 

So she took a breath, 

Her soft flanks puffing gently out,

And picked her sure-footed way across the heavens

Till she found her place behind the waning half-moon. 

 

She found them in a meadow of stars.

The sight, it must be said, was awesome.

In the darkness,

The Ram's quick hooves struck sparks on the stones,

And the Lion's grace brought tears to the Goat's eyes;

An incandescent pair, trampling the sod beneath their feet.

 

The Goat settled in, watchful;

Her head high, a wry smile on her lips

Vigilant, bemused, comic, even

Her light fur falling in unkempt tresses.

 

The others were still. It was awkward.

 

The distant cry of a newborn baby girl broke the silence.

 

The Lion's head swiveled; 

A whuffing sound deep in her throat,

Suddenly majestic, her vanity banished,

Her heart beating strong and true.

 

The Ram's feet took root in the Earth,

His throbbing temples cooled;

His gaze turned soft and wise.

 

The two fiery ones watched, transfixed,

As the Goat rose to her feet,

And began her ascent toward the new girl’s cries, step by step,

Determined at first,

But now stepping, now leaping, now bounding,

Unafraid, joyful, regal, even,