Fair and listening Owl
Against the black sky
How you soar high
How you spy well
What pretty thirst for silence
On what tree of rest
On which horse ranch
Do you like to spy on best?
Far and listening Owl
Who out on a limb
Does watch the moon rise
And claws tight full of wisdom
An old hoot for a nest from the sun
Who can tell what
Hoot is thinking?
An owl named “Who”
Who loudly repeats the woot
Speaking a language of owls
With eyes to mourn and songs
To sing, ringing in the forests
Extinct and noble Owl
In some dry recess now
Of the museum’s memory
In what fantasy books
Did I see an owl-reading?
Wuji Seshat 
A family of owls have made their home in a large tree on the property just to the east of where I live. I heard them last night. It was a gift, as was this poem. Thank you!
I find I have a bizarre affinity with some rare creatures, like the Octopus, Peacock, Owl and other such “totems”, maybe it’s the American Native in me…
And you are rather lucky to have owls near you 🙂
A great poem, and I happen to love owls, I particularly miss the Snowy Owl of Northern Manitoba, a beautiful and majestic creature.