The tribal guide would not not let us down
Into crunch of leaves and tiger paw-prints.
From such a height you can see mountains.
The secret is to hold on and not let it move
To mountains over thorny low-slung bush
With blue clouds at top presaging a storm.
Without ankush it takes us to inner animal
With trees uprooted, mountain pulled near
Without dusk shining from the rear flanks.
Muthu teaches to wield ankush on it to go
Where we want to go, to blue mountains.
We will use it to tame wild elephant in us.
(The mind is a rider on an elephant. ‘My own mind used to wander wherever pleasure or desire or lust led it, but now I have it tamed, I guide it, as the keeper guides the wild elephant-Buddha)