Owls of Adventure

I feel you grab and let go

Only after you fly past me

In your tree, perched above,

You circle me with your roundness.

An invitation in silent motion

To engage in an ancient ballet.

You, with fine ferns for wings,

Circular grain-of-the-wood for eyes,

Nested within the body of old growth.

Me, milky white and tender from

Under shelter and wool cover.

I run uncovered deep

Within your forest.

Do you sense me

Running your way before my

Headlamp emerges, calling

You to flightful banter?

And so the dance begins.

What is this we share

In the twilight forest,

Following your lead, following me?

And I laugh, you are playing with me!

Waltzing me back and forth

Through your wooded ballroom.

Ha Ho!

I am no quarry for your gullet.

I am your playful whimsy.

You move me with your feathery

Forested outstretched wings, and

Watch me run and twirl

Out of my clothes,

Laughing so sanely.