The tiger strode upon the earth,
The land he claimed as his,
Such that he had some sense of worth,
Some portion known as bliss...
For every single day he rose,
No rival seemed to call,
He had no friends, he had no foes,
Not one, not one at all...
It's true, his presence could be felt,
As lesser creatures knew,
As if their tiny hearts could melt
When big fears grew and grew...
But love, the greatest gift God gives,
Was nowhere to be found,
Unless a tigress somewhere lives,
To make this sacred ground...
So one day came, when loneliness
Consumed his very soul,
Perhaps the day God meant to bless,
Perhaps to make him whole...
For without her, what use was he?
No offspring, child or heir...
And therein lies God's mystery,
His presence everywhere...
Denis Martindale, copyright, April 2014.
The poem is based on the magnificent painting by
Stephen Gayford, nb Google search gayfordgallery.
Find more wildlife poems using Google search
for the search phrase Stephen Gayford poetry.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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