A LION FABLE
There once was a majestic flowering garden full of fruitful trees. The sun brought warmth and wonder. The night brought a crown of stars and heaven to its dome.
In this first kingdom, in this first palace, there lived the first lion King and Queen. Being the first of anything is never easy, for mistakes are sure to lead the way before proper behavior is learned. Being the first King and Queen, and of equal power, some problem was bound to happen. And it did.
One day they argued over who was more stubborn.
The King stood firmly, sternly.
The Queen stood firmly, sternly.
They were very much alike.
"You are!" roared the Queen.
"You are!" roared the King.
They faced each other and stared. This went on for three hours! Finally the frustrated King turned his back and ignored the Queen. With this the furious Queen stormed out of the palace.
The King growled, "Good-bye!"
The Queen growled, "You'll be sorry!"
“Ha!” The King shouted.
The King ordered a wall to be put up around the beautiful landscaped palace. Make her beg to come back in.
Stubborn? I'll shown her stubborn!
A night passed. The King did not hear from the Queen. Good, he thought, punish her for being so stubborn. The King liked his new fortress and had it expanded and enlarged. She'll see.
Meanwhile, the Queen moved farther away.
With each passing hour the wall became higher and thicker, and the Queen moved farther and further away.
A second night was passing and by this time the King started feeling his heart growing, empty. Maybe the Queen didn't understand the lesson she's supposed to understand, thought the King, maybe I'm being too severe.
He sent a carrier pigeon with a message asking if the Queen was ready to return. The Queen, who had traveled to a far off land, sent word back that she didn't feel like speaking to the King.
The King with the growing heart built towers on the four corners to keep an eye out for her return. By now this new fortress hid the palace.
Two more days passed, the King was worried. Another message was sent; her return note was like the first: the Queen will not speak to him. The Queen was being more stubborn, and he was the one who was starting to bend. Is it right for the King to bend so? the King wondered.
The King ordered a part of the wall to be knocked down, "I'll at least put in a door. She can knock," he mumbled to his servants.
Another day passed. Another carrier pigeon was sent with message; another "not speaking to you!" reply. Now the King’s heart pounded really hard and loud. It made him kick down the door. Here was a passage way. But she did not enter.
Without the Queen, the King did not feel like a King anymore. Their wonderful gardens dried up because the big stonewalls kept out the sun. The palace had become dark and cold. And empty.
The King sent a flock of messages. The Queen had his pigeons roasted for dinner.
"Never coming back?" the King sneered to himself nervously. He went outside and began pacing around the wall; he walked so much that a deep ditch was formed from his heavy steps. The ditch got so deep that he created a tunnel under where the door had fallen. There he slept, tried to sleep. He could now circle the entire fortress in the ditch without anyone seeing his sorry state of worry. The door became a bridge into the castle. But no one entered.
"Never coming back? She'll come back," he hoped.
But the Queen never returned.
The King’s big empty heart filled with liquid sadness.
He wrote notes but tears smeared the writing.
Words no longer made sense… days became meaningless… the kingdom was useless… when the King could no longer speak, his eyes started to leak, and he cried for forty days and nights, slowly the ditch filled with tears and became a moat that now floated around the fortress. And when his great heart burst, He drowned in his own tears.
Bubbles of troubles began rising in the salty water. It was as if the gates of hell had suddenly opened and started boiling the King’s tears. Great vents of steam rose up to form a huge cloud that hung above the castle. When the cloud was full and heavy, the tears would rain right back down only to be swept up again
in the steaming stream of the moat. The castle became completely covered in a sad gray drizzle.
The Queen heard the news of the King's death. At first she felt relieved. No more pigeons to ruin her diet. Besides, the King had been unfair. The Queen didn't want to cry for the King. She had learned to hunt for her own food and pleasure. She had found a knight to occupy her evenings, and many friends to play with all day, not much time to worry away. But she had a longing to see this famous fortress castle that had replaced her palace.
Disguised as an old widow, she went back to the kingdom. She was shocked at the size of the fortress. Looking down into the moat the Queen saw herself reflected in the King's tears; she noticed that her own stubbornness (which was supposed to teach the King a lesson) had become worse than the King's had ever been. She had taken it too far. She felt his heart for the first time. The fortress had been built because of her.
A Queen is not a Queen without a King. The spell that had prevented her from seeing things clearly was broken. She had no one to oppose now. She had won, but it felt more like a loss, a great loss. When the young Queen went to remove her disguise she couldn't; she had become an old foolish widow.
All of her friends and distractions could no longer prevent her from falling the way of the King. The King and Queen had been too much alike. She had lost the fact that she loved the King.
She began to mourn for the King and for herself, her cruel side she had not seen before. The Queen began plucking out her crown of hair. The fallen gray-golden hair turned into thorny vines that immediately wound around the moat and entangled the fortress walls. She started screaming crazily and ran inside and drew up the bridge to seal herself in the castle. For three days and nights great sobs echoed out of the nearly deserted fortress.
Then, the wailing Queen gathered up her last bit of strength to climb the highest tower and shout out to everyone:
“Long Live the --- ahhh!”
In a sudden flash she bolted straight down into the King's tears. The first Lightning had come into the world! And then the first thunder rumbled across the countryside as the Queen belly-whacked into the water and sank, never to be seen again.
Like magic, the clouds, the vines, and the depressing drizzle all vanished as the sun appeared with its solid gold light.
This is why today’s lions never live in castles, and why lion kings are known for their great hearts, and why lion queens don’t wear crowns and have become such good hunters.
It is said that when these royal hearts rejoined in the pool they spawned the first full radiant rainbow arching like a goal above the empty palace.
They have left us this reminder:
the rainbow is a colorful goal
reaching out in unpleasant weather,
two sides may stand alone and apart,
but the true stand is the coming together
"A Lion Fable" story from "TailTales" © 2000 by John Kirkmire, © 2013 Kirkworkshop. All rights reserved.
return to stories page
There once was a majestic flowering garden full of fruitful trees. The sun brought warmth and wonder. The night brought a crown of stars and heaven to its dome.
In this first kingdom, in this first palace, there lived the first lion King and Queen. Being the first of anything is never easy, for mistakes are sure to lead the way before proper behavior is learned. Being the first King and Queen, and of equal power, some problem was bound to happen. And it did.
One day they argued over who was more stubborn.
The King stood firmly, sternly.
The Queen stood firmly, sternly.
They were very much alike.
"You are!" roared the Queen.
"You are!" roared the King.
They faced each other and stared. This went on for three hours! Finally the frustrated King turned his back and ignored the Queen. With this the furious Queen stormed out of the palace.
The King growled, "Good-bye!"
The Queen growled, "You'll be sorry!"
“Ha!” The King shouted.
The King ordered a wall to be put up around the beautiful landscaped palace. Make her beg to come back in.
Stubborn? I'll shown her stubborn!
A night passed. The King did not hear from the Queen. Good, he thought, punish her for being so stubborn. The King liked his new fortress and had it expanded and enlarged. She'll see.
Meanwhile, the Queen moved farther away.
With each passing hour the wall became higher and thicker, and the Queen moved farther and further away.
A second night was passing and by this time the King started feeling his heart growing, empty. Maybe the Queen didn't understand the lesson she's supposed to understand, thought the King, maybe I'm being too severe.
He sent a carrier pigeon with a message asking if the Queen was ready to return. The Queen, who had traveled to a far off land, sent word back that she didn't feel like speaking to the King.
The King with the growing heart built towers on the four corners to keep an eye out for her return. By now this new fortress hid the palace.
Two more days passed, the King was worried. Another message was sent; her return note was like the first: the Queen will not speak to him. The Queen was being more stubborn, and he was the one who was starting to bend. Is it right for the King to bend so? the King wondered.
The King ordered a part of the wall to be knocked down, "I'll at least put in a door. She can knock," he mumbled to his servants.
Another day passed. Another carrier pigeon was sent with message; another "not speaking to you!" reply. Now the King’s heart pounded really hard and loud. It made him kick down the door. Here was a passage way. But she did not enter.
Without the Queen, the King did not feel like a King anymore. Their wonderful gardens dried up because the big stonewalls kept out the sun. The palace had become dark and cold. And empty.
The King sent a flock of messages. The Queen had his pigeons roasted for dinner.
"Never coming back?" the King sneered to himself nervously. He went outside and began pacing around the wall; he walked so much that a deep ditch was formed from his heavy steps. The ditch got so deep that he created a tunnel under where the door had fallen. There he slept, tried to sleep. He could now circle the entire fortress in the ditch without anyone seeing his sorry state of worry. The door became a bridge into the castle. But no one entered.
"Never coming back? She'll come back," he hoped.
But the Queen never returned.
The King’s big empty heart filled with liquid sadness.
He wrote notes but tears smeared the writing.
Words no longer made sense… days became meaningless… the kingdom was useless… when the King could no longer speak, his eyes started to leak, and he cried for forty days and nights, slowly the ditch filled with tears and became a moat that now floated around the fortress. And when his great heart burst, He drowned in his own tears.
Bubbles of troubles began rising in the salty water. It was as if the gates of hell had suddenly opened and started boiling the King’s tears. Great vents of steam rose up to form a huge cloud that hung above the castle. When the cloud was full and heavy, the tears would rain right back down only to be swept up again
in the steaming stream of the moat. The castle became completely covered in a sad gray drizzle.
The Queen heard the news of the King's death. At first she felt relieved. No more pigeons to ruin her diet. Besides, the King had been unfair. The Queen didn't want to cry for the King. She had learned to hunt for her own food and pleasure. She had found a knight to occupy her evenings, and many friends to play with all day, not much time to worry away. But she had a longing to see this famous fortress castle that had replaced her palace.
Disguised as an old widow, she went back to the kingdom. She was shocked at the size of the fortress. Looking down into the moat the Queen saw herself reflected in the King's tears; she noticed that her own stubbornness (which was supposed to teach the King a lesson) had become worse than the King's had ever been. She had taken it too far. She felt his heart for the first time. The fortress had been built because of her.
A Queen is not a Queen without a King. The spell that had prevented her from seeing things clearly was broken. She had no one to oppose now. She had won, but it felt more like a loss, a great loss. When the young Queen went to remove her disguise she couldn't; she had become an old foolish widow.
All of her friends and distractions could no longer prevent her from falling the way of the King. The King and Queen had been too much alike. She had lost the fact that she loved the King.
She began to mourn for the King and for herself, her cruel side she had not seen before. The Queen began plucking out her crown of hair. The fallen gray-golden hair turned into thorny vines that immediately wound around the moat and entangled the fortress walls. She started screaming crazily and ran inside and drew up the bridge to seal herself in the castle. For three days and nights great sobs echoed out of the nearly deserted fortress.
Then, the wailing Queen gathered up her last bit of strength to climb the highest tower and shout out to everyone:
“Long Live the --- ahhh!”
In a sudden flash she bolted straight down into the King's tears. The first Lightning had come into the world! And then the first thunder rumbled across the countryside as the Queen belly-whacked into the water and sank, never to be seen again.
Like magic, the clouds, the vines, and the depressing drizzle all vanished as the sun appeared with its solid gold light.
This is why today’s lions never live in castles, and why lion kings are known for their great hearts, and why lion queens don’t wear crowns and have become such good hunters.
It is said that when these royal hearts rejoined in the pool they spawned the first full radiant rainbow arching like a goal above the empty palace.
They have left us this reminder:
the rainbow is a colorful goal
reaching out in unpleasant weather,
two sides may stand alone and apart,
but the true stand is the coming together
"A Lion Fable" story from "TailTales" © 2000 by John Kirkmire, © 2013 Kirkworkshop. All rights reserved.
return to stories page