What I find especially fascinating is that the power it has to cause its prey - including people - to freeze is believed to come not from the loud roariness of it, but from the part which is pitched too low for us to hear, but which we can sense or feel. Researchers have discovered that this infrasound can travel huge distances, permeating buildings and cutting through dense forests and even mountain ranges.
I've decided that poetry probably roars too, and this is why those who can hear it are compelled to read and write the stuff. It also explains why the stuff some people insist will transform your life feels like so much flummery. Who wants to rearrange cushions or sort their books according to the colour of their spines when their tiger is summoning them?
'Try Yoga' is from my forthcoming collection, The Shadow Factory', which will be published by Indigo Dreams later this year.