"The Tiger and the Hummingbird"
In a forest thick with tangled green,
Where shadows stretch and light is lean,
A tiger prowled with silent grace,
A fire burning in his face.
His eyes were sharp, his muscles taut,
With every step, a storm was wrought.
Yet in his chest, a question stirred—
A whisper soft, like wings he heard.
Then came a hum upon the breeze,
A flicker dancing through the trees.
A hummingbird, so small and bright,
A jewel kissed by morning light.
"Why do you hide behind your might?"
She asked him in the hush of night.
"Your power is a gift, it's true,
But love, not fear, must carry you."
The tiger blinked, his gaze unsure—
Could gentleness and strength endure?
The bird, with heart so unafraid,
Nestled near where shadows played.
He watched her sip from flowers sweet,
And felt a calm beneath his heat.
She dared to soar, though she was small,
She loved the world—she risked it all.
And so the two, both claw and wing,
Learned what their union both could bring:
To strike when danger stalks the land,
But also offer heart and hand.
For strength, when used with love and grace,
Can guard and guide, not just displace.
And hearts that open, brave and true,
Can turn the fiercest beast anew.
