Tiger Riding for Beginners

Traveling Poet Philosopher & Occasional Wiseacre

orange lichens 
adorn an old stone wall;
nature’s decorator

the plains below
the Himalayan foothills,
a sea of clouds

jungle engulfs,
swallows, and digests
once proud buildings

a tree burst through 
the old building’s brick wall,
and sent roots searching

Calcutta’s December:
Christmas trees stand beside
palm trees

i walk a calm street,
but find myself facing
a rabid Tengu

born in struggle;
the chick pops from its shell
and must fight to its feet

passing hazy hills,
i sway with the train,
mulling reality

fields of ripe rice
as far as the eye can see -
sickle harvested

momma langur
looks like she’s saying,
“lean into your hammy!”