The Tiger

Its stripes are rivers of moonlit smoke,

woven from secrets the cosmos spoke.

Each step a riddle, each breath a spell,

born of the darkness where mysteries dwell.

The jungle listens, the shadows dance,

for the tiger carries what only sages know.

It teaches my soul: to walk without fear,

and find the spaces where strength grows clear.

In its present, my burdens unbind,

embracing I’m something divine.

For darkness is not the absence of flame,

but the holy ground where all things came.