The wisdom of the Owl

That night
of the lunar eclipse,
I walked quickly,
following a moonbeam pass,
along a path I divined.
I came upon some tall grass,
where a spotlight shined.

a mystical light skips,
along in the dark,
from a sliver in the eclipse,
and though barely recognizable,
I caught a glimpse
of a wet, limp
and well-concealed,
owl feather laying
in an open field .

I felt the owl looking down
from his place on the tree.
and as he watched me
I fell to my knees and asked,
“for who’s good can it be?”

Thinking it a sign
of something to come
I heard a whisper
and in the night air,
a soft, gentle hum,
“no, its a message,
its a message
of your freedom.”

As much as I
would like,
I may never know,
what’s really behind
whatever gifts I find,
wherever I may go.
But for the mystery
in my wonderful
human imagination,
that wisdom will
most assuredly flow.

2 Replies to “The wisdom of the Owl”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *