Page 182 of Tiger's Voyage
Molds it to an orderly shape
Uses his great will to contain it
And yet it strains against his grip.
Feral and untamed
It can only find rest
In the jungle.
A place where it is free
A place where it is welcomed.
There it finds peace
As he is embraced
By her leafy arms.
But the path to the jungle is lost.
So he moves
Circling his cage anxiously.
He watches
Waiting for the moment
When his hungry heart will be set free.
Ren finished and squeezed out the towel. “You can look if you want to. Your leg is going to be fine.”
I cracked open my eyes and looked down the long white length of my leg. A thin pink scar ran from the top of my calf to my ankle. Ren touched it lightly, tracing it from the beginning down to my foot. I shivered.
He misunderstood my reaction. “It’s not that bad. Does it hurt?”
“No, not really. It’s just a little sore.”
He nodded and cupped the back of my calf, squeezing lightly.
“That actually feels good. Maybe a massage will help, after I’ve healed a little bit more.”
“Anytime.”
I put my hand on his arm. “Thank you. I … your poem … it was lovely.”
“You’re welcome,” he smiled warmly, “and thankyou,dil ke dadkan.”
Saddened, I shifted closer and rested my palm against his heart. “Your ‘Caged Heart’ poem wasn’t about Lokesh, the circus, or forgetting, was it?”
“No.” He placed his hand over mine and held it against him. “And before you ask, it means, ‘my heartbeat.’”
A tear plopped onto my cheek. “Ren … I—”
Kishan grunted as the sun rose over the horizon and hit him in the face. Sitting up, he rubbed his sleepy eyes and scooted closer to us. Then he wrapped his arms around my waist and slid me back into his chest.
