The first is a redraft (old draft here); the second is new, using the Sikh holy city as a symbol.
A Tiger Pouncing
The light is a tiger pouncing,
a panther pawing, a lion roaring;
like waterfalls in their pouring,
its color thunders, unrelenting.
Rippling in the shadows
like a rumor in the city,
it leaps like glory's coming
in the rainbows of the flood.
The light on the wall is flowing,
shadow-playing, darkness-mousing,
leaping and lightly purring
as it panthers in my room.
Amritsar
Although the sea divides us
in Amritsar I stand;
my heart rests in the warmth
of nectar-golden sand.
In a vessel, clay and calm,
made by a guru's hand,
I feel blessing pouring down,
for in Amritsar I stand.
When time pools all around me
like some silent sarovar,
I am in Ramdaspur;
and, whether near or far,
my heart is by those waters
as they shine beneath the stars
around the golden temple
of blessed Amritsar.
When trouble overtakes me
I flee to the fort of steel,
I shelter in the city
with the sacred pools that heal,
I search for the jot of light
where the psalms of gurus peal:
this world is all mirage,
but Great Amritsar is real.
