Choice of Lion's Departure

Does the lion slink away or raise a parting roar?
Was he ever disguised as a pussy cat?
While the blustery blasts cause shudders at our door,
will a gentle spring breeze stop for a chat?

The willow shows her soft, gray pussies, not quite a cat,
preparing for the slender green leaves to come forth,
responding to April's rainy pit-a-pat,
where trickling brooks and nesting ducks come north.

See ushered out, the windy month beneath the rainbow's arch,
as we remark without regret, “Well, that was March.”
An arc of the circle of seasons our Creator planned,
completed as spring takes possession of the land.