Poetry by Annushka

Shibu Tiger


Just one glance and I can see,
He is quicker and stronger than me.
Have to be careful, have to be smart
Or I will wake him up with a start.
Just with a bounce he can get me trapped
Before I am ready for a treatment like that.

So cautiously then I creep to him.
I stroke his hair as the light goes dim.
I press some kisses upon his brow
and manage to wake him gently somehow.

* * *

Early next morning I raised up my head
And saw a little birdie all crashed on my bed.
How was this possible? How could this be?
For at night there lay a tiger and mighty was he.
But this one was nothing, just a tiny fluff ball
With one of its wings bent up from a fall.

I scooped him up gently and held him close
Singing softly, dispelling his foes.
I stroked and kissed his bent little wing.
Then the bird woke up and started to sing.
The most beautiful song I had ever heard
Came out of this tiny bird.

* * *

So this is how I came to know
That looks can be deceiving
For a roaring tiger in my bed
Had slept by me that evening.

However, now I looked at him
So vulnerable and small
Leaning against my warm soft breast
Because he had crashed from a fall.

I get it now; I understand
A mystery of the living:
Inside my beloved, a great big man,
There lives a baby within him.


� 2002 Anne Maarit Ghan

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