The Lion In The Den Of The Prophets

She swaggers in. They are terrifying in their white hairlessness. She
waits. She watches. She does not move. She is measuring their moves. And
they are measuring her. Cautiously one takes a bit of her fur. He cuts
it free from her. He examines it. Another numbers her feet, her teeth,
the length and width of her body. She yawns. They announce she is alive.
They wonder what she will do if they close her in the room with them.
One of them shuts the door. She backs her way towards the closed doorway
and roars. "Be still." the men say. She continues to roar. "Why does she
roar?" they ask. The roaring must be inside her, they conclude. They decide
they must see the roaring inside her. They approach her in a group, six at
her two front legs and six at her two back legs. They are trying to
put her to sleep. She swings at one of the men. His own blood runs over him.
"Why did she do that?" the men question. She has no soul, they conclude, she
does not know right from wrong. "Be still." they shout at her. "Be humble,
trust us," they demand. "We have souls," they proclaim, "we know what is
right." They approach her with their medicine, "For you." She doesn't
understand this language. She devours them.

                                       --From Women and Nature
                                         The Roaring Inside Her
                                                By Susan Griffin