to love
and to love again
is to die twice
having lived once at the banks of the River Mara
where the scurrying lion caressed you in blazing tenderness
gazing at you in in overwhelming longing
tail wagging in undivided friendliness
his whiskers tickling you in marvelous humour
you all lived in unity.
Wow…this took my breath away! So outstanding!
Might I make one small edit suggestion…
“…is like to die twice” (“like” breaks the flow for me. Perhaps experiment with taking out that one word. For me, at least, that one change turns an already electric poem into a thunderstorm)
Your poem made me pause and just soak it up. Well done!
Wow! This is no small suggestion – it’s massive. Away with like right away. Thank you.