On the train home I plan Tiger's safe journey.
Cloth sack over his head to keep away fear...
Comforted in his blindness he sleeps.
Sister's way is to trick him into believing he's still in the jungle
By sword of bush branch and shield of basket
He is not fooled by her, nor she secure from him
Father's way demands tranquilizing instinct...
He would break Tiger's lively spirit
Near death, muscle and fur falls to cruel effort
And my way? I stroke the striped beast to trust me
To counsel and not kill
Requires a like mind
From freight car to Arcadia place,
I will build you a tunnel of mud and grass
Tiger, sniff the earth, retreat through the dark birth canal.
Tiger and I know something of power.
Together we blend and blow primitive breath
into the flame...and become fire