Dimensions of a Primeval World

THE ancient seas and rocks are still
And glacier makes a quiet hill.
Where jungle stood are houses now:
Flamboyant tree and flowering bough
Are tangled with pragmatic wire
That carries, by induction, fire
And sulphurous amazing sound.
Primeval trees are underground,
Embalmed in carbon; dinosaurs
Construct the earth beneath our floors.
Yet here upon the civilized street
The angry stalking tigers meet
And pace behind the rigid fence.
Nor is there any human sense
Swift enough to apprehend
Swish of tails as they unbend,
Glitter of the midnight eyes,
Shape of danger where it lies.
We walk safe, not knowing when
Jungles may burst forth again.
We do not quite expect to find
The tigers lurking in our mind,
Or think that we may ever see
Those stripes in plain reality,
Although outside the vestibule
The tigers sit and call us fool.