Feathered Message

Feathered, she whispered.

Feathered, she winged.

“The night is leaving the land,

you know.”

I was curled up

and blinked slow

and sleepy.

“What, Spring is coming?

The air tastes like snow.”

The owl regarded

me with yellow

moon eyes.

“Who will you be in the sun?“

Then she spread her

white wings

and with the winter

was gone.

White Owl

The rain
is falling
on my chest
and my white
feathers.

I feel their
murmur
in the silence
of the night
forest.

I do not
judge them,
do not
wish them
to stop
or stay.

I only am
their drum

watching
from a branch

my eyes
yellow
and round
as the
moon.

Owl Owl

Owl owl

soft in the sky

your white

strength

flies dark

wisdom

in your

infinite eyes.

You drift

a dandelion

white

as I

rooted to the

ground

know flight

in your

curling arcs

wings delight

Could I fly

with you

and leave

an empty wake?

Could we fly

until morning

without a trace?

Suddenly the Owl

When clouds block
the low hanging
sun

and the North Star
is too dim to
see

suddenly the owl
captures the
whole sky
with his
golden flight

his white
moon face
his sailing wings
an arrow
cloth
he glides
and flaps

and though you
had not
meant to

Stop

in between
day and
night

you do.

In a flash
of white

you understand

your place.