Tiger Riding for Beginners

Traveling Poet Philosopher & Occasional Wiseacre

blooms & berries
 color the scrublands
  as summer peaks.

fallen leaves skitter
 as grass sprouts in twined roots:
  all seasons at once.

askew tombstones
 under a yawning tree:
  a crow on its branch.

over a ridge,
 and a sprawling city grows 
  into my wilderness.

tattered butterfly
 comes to rest after a
  spastic last dance.

the temple bell clangs:
 heard from a distance,
  it does not fade.

langur in a tree
 remains still as others flee;
  it seems to know
 my limitations as well as
 its own capabilities.

a heron stands tall
 at the branch’s end,
  as if weightless.

the clouds retreat,
 revealing hilltop ruins:
  a ghost in stone.

hill slope trees
 like staggering figures:
  soon swallowed in fog.