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