All said on
tigers
is like
snow
falling on
fire:
there is
only
presence of
eyes,
essence of
power
coiled up,
aware
of all,
dormant
terror on
soft paws
tasting the
feel
of ground
and balance,
a huge
dense flame
held
immensely calm
between
movement
and
stillness, in the pause
which is
now
now, all
nowhere else:
here the
wildness of
angels and
innocent
beast are one.
beast are one.
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