This poem was prompted by siliconshaman's reference to free-running felines, which led me to parkour, which gave me the cool French vocabulary. It was sponsored by kyleri.
The leopard lives for l'art du déplacement.
He leaps over levies and sidles between vines.
He lifts himself effortlessly toward the leaves.
The panther pours herself into parkour.
She vaults tall piles of rock without need for a pole.
Her paws touch down silently, padded with powerful grace.
The tiger is a terrific traceur.
He traverses the entire forest, twining between trees.
He teases his way along tight trails.
Cats know how to be and to last,
être et durer,
fast and efficient as death.
Their strength and their speed are their purpose,
être fort pour être utile,
grace become power become presence.
Between each leap, a running feline flies:
this is their méthode naturelle,
knowing that is feeling, feeling that is flight.