I do not believe in death
The Owl’s Feather
But I know it’ll find me
As I awoke
I witnessed the Owl’s final flight
closing out the night
My day
opening earlier than light
The owl’s hunt ended
with nothing of delight
Weary, tired and exhausted
feathers not as presentable
wings not at their original angle
burdened with the return
to an empty nest
My day has just began
flushed with hope
this day will be my very best
And when the Owl’s feather falls
leaving no room for recall
When Starlings, Grosbeaks and Pullets
are nested
It is then
the reaper comes quietly in the night
seeking the restless
the dreamless
all having dissatisfaction with the light
Needless it will be
to draw our swords and shields
in futility of fighting
shadows having no permanence
having no care or concerns
for our plight
It is best we go quietly into that night
least we be burdened
with the nightmares of an endless life
Like gerbils on their continuous wheel
where no fortunes can we steal
And life will always meet death
matters not from whose hands
these cards we deal
And when the Owl’s feather falls
leaving no room for recall
having lived our very best life
is our only winning hand
warding off the sting of
death’s painful knife
