Tiger stalks by night,
By day, it hunts bloody and red,
Feeds on steaming flesh.
Sated, it sleeps to purr its dreams:
Four feet like jungle drums,
Wide ears to fan the flys,
Nose that grasps the skies.
Tiger turns, its dreams
Run real. Tiger is no more.
Elephant walks by night,
By day, it loafs muddy and wet,
Feeds on gleaming leaves.
Sated, it sleeps to snort its dreams:
Feet with fingers, hands with thumbs,
Eyes aware and quizzical,
Tail so long and physical.
Elephant stamps, its dreams
Run real. Elephant is no more.
Monkey climbs by night,
By day, it sits grooming its mate,
Feeds by gleaning fruit.
Sated, it sleeps to grunt its dreams:
Feet like clubs, skin gone smooth,
Eyes that promise and betray,
Words of laughter and dismay.
Monkey stirs, its dreams
Run real. Monkey is no more.
Man lies by night,
By day, he follows unknown fate,
Feeds on all the world.
Sated, he sleeps to seek his dreams:
The jewel in the heart of the lotus,
Transfinite reflections of peace,
Where even dreaming can cease.
Man sighs, his dreams
Run real. Man is no more.
Buddha is by night,
By day, all one and the same to him,
Feeds on songs of stars.
Sated, he sits. Aware, he sees:
The jewel in the heart of the lotus,
The Eye in time's stream.
The Buddha does not dream.