Stranger of the Night
Barred owl, what are you doing here
At bay in a tall pine tree
Where the small birds curse and jeer?
This is mid-morning, not evening shade – Glide quickly to the hillside den
Where shadows of the moon are made , Turn your rounded head and stare Swivel
at the trail Your great dark eyes protected from the blue sky’s glare
Once we could converse, we were not different So much as given offices to
bear You to silence, we to praise the firmament
Alien to alien, each species has unlearned What Eve and Adam knew before The
precious gifts of God were spurned
We did not name so much as speak
One to the other
And afterward the prattle of the mouse’s squeak
Stranger of the night, your presence here blasphemes, Go back to your
robber’s den Where daylight ventures only in its dreams
Pavel
June 23, 2011