Silver Tiger and Mountain Man

by Hayden Johnson
(Lindstrom, MN, USA)

Silver Tiger

Silver Tiger

The forest is my place of refuge.
A spot of of peace and serenity.
From the treetops, the brilliant light peaks through --winking.
Upon those trodden deer-trails slyly walks silver tiger.
His sleek silver fur, perfectly slick, is endowed with a greatly radiant sheen.
Brighter than the sun’s rays.
Brighter than the moon’s glow. This light, uncreated, eternally shines forth.
Silver tiger is wise. From the mere puny anthills, to great pungent hidden stagnant-bogs,
he knows.
If there be an outcry of a wounded animal, being hunted by another, he knows and is there to help.
Silver is the wisdom of the forest; one could say, he is the very life within it.
Though he may seem very intimidating, he does not harm. He is the peace and tranquility of the forest.

Walk through the forest. Observe its humbling atmosphere: the angelic-like choir of the animals, with their natural sounds turning into an organic orchestrated array. It is the Silver One, who is their orchestrator. For when one looks upon his radiant coat, and into his bright fiery eyes, that one will in no doubt be mesmerized and absolved into the very serenity and peace of the forest calm.

Walk to the waterfall; and if you dare, walk through it!
His beauty is surely found there too.
For when you stand behind those silently running streams of crystal clear water, falling from the cliff above, you could almost swear to yourself that you see something -- a figure -- gleamingly shining upon a rock, ahead; his eyes piercing your gaze, and that peacefulness entering into your very members, giving you a chilling sensation of the forest calm.

Silence.

Where is silver tiger?
Should he not be guarding the forest ground with his peaceful might?
Even when he cannot be found, his presence is still felt and known.

He climbs silently upon the great hill tops.
Seeking for a cave atop.
For, therein, is his equal found: the mountain man, so he’s named.

He approaches the dark cave opening, its contents a mystery, not to be seen.
Waiting, with the most attentive figure, until another wise one is to manifest.

Moments pass.
The sun is setting, and its golden rays beam past the mountain’s peak, and into my eyes.
Yet, its radiance cannot even compare to that of the Silver One.

Suddenly, with graceful pace, a wise old man appears, walking slowly toward his friend, that Silver One.
His great long beard, full of many years of wisdom and tales of endurance in the forest, trails behind him. Finally, he stands in front of silver tiger, peering into those mesmerizing eyes.

The two together constitute an equal pair: for, the beard of the one and the pelt of the other luminously shine together in harmony, both equally the same in all respects.
The wise old man, having lived among not only silver tiger, but the rest of the forest-dwellers as well, has acquired such love and wisdom, it could be said that it can be seen pouring forth from his frail, thin frame.

As he caresses the head of silver tiger, the two with great joyful smiles, look up together at the sunset.
Their eyes identically, glisteningly shimmer forth like the stars of heaven, producing that spark which ignites the forest calm within the hearts and beings of all around.

Oh wouldn’t we love to question that man and his dear friend:
Why is he living there?
Why is he so in-tune with the natural world around him?
Who is he?
Who is his companion, that silver tiger?
A myriad more flow from our thoughts.

Yet, this overwhelming calmness, bubbling up from our hearts as we gaze upon the two, trumps any answer that would be given.

In our busy lives, full of trials, terrors, evils, and false love and hope, we often seek that which silver tiger and his friend the wise mountain man, possess.

Seek that place of refuge.
That place of peace, the forest of silver tiger and the wise old man.
It is found not in a geographical location upon this earth.
But, it is to be found within each of us.
Our very hearts,
our very souls,
can bear this kind of overflowing peace.
Therein is their secret forest found.

These two great ones stand side by side now.
Peering up into the final moments of the descending sun.
Its rays reflecting that heavenly hue off of the both of them.
They are like the sun of the forest, and its very source of light, lighting the entirety around them.
Suddenly, out of the darkening forest around, gathers groups of critters of all kinds;
once, moment ago, seeming to be randomly scurrying about the forest floor, are now in amass facing the same direction as silver tiger and the mountain man.

The old man steps forth.
He raises up his hands toward the sky.
And gives thanks to the true Prince of Peace.
The Creator of our souls and bodies.
Of silver tiger and the wise old man.

Silver tiger bows his head, as do the other animals.
And then raises it, bellowing the most sweet sound one could hear.
Giving thanks to the Prince of Peace.
A tear of joy falls from both of their eyes.
And the animals of this peaceful forest give thanks for the passing day, and the new one to soon rise.

You see, their peace is not from themselves
But comes from One far greater.
Who touches the hearts of all who seek Him.
Giving them that same forest calm.
His kingdom, this peaceful forest of silver tiger and the mountain man, is truly found within.
Seek it, and you shall surely find Him.
With silver tiger prancing about
and the old mountain man following behind.
Giving praise of joy, which shall last throughout all time.

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