The Owlet Flies

The Owlet Flies

Her curious eyes in the dark night.
Alone and cold, the silence is unnerving.
She knows the dawn is certain.
Yet she knows not when the time will fly.
She knows not it will fly with her.

The first flight is the trickiest.
For being still is never the option.
And the first leap is always uncertain.
To choose between the earth and the wild wind,
Is to choose between a smile and a kiss.

She misses the evenings on the tree tops.
She had made love to the wind, seen the light.
She had dreamed of the high flight.

The night sky is magnificent, the dense clouds smile.
It’s too dark, she waits for dawn. Hint of a breeze.
She breathes in the air, her one true love.
And leaps.

It’s a moment before she spreads her wings.
Savoring the uncertainty, eyes wide with hope and longing.
Rush of wind, time hastens, mountains feel the sun coming.
Her feet leave the ground with an unnatural firmness.

Mid flight, she hugs the wind. Feels a caress, a cuddle.
Holds on, smiles at the sun. Feels the warmth flood over.
Sees the earth down below, knowing she’ll return.
After building what she truly wants.

In his embrace, she holds on, certain and brave.
She’s brighter than anything he’s ever seen.
Warmer and softer than anything he’s ever felt.
Stronger than the mightiest of his storms.

One with the Child of the High Winds,
As they build the air around them,
The Owlet flies with intent.


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