Here is a wonderfully atmospheric and haunting poem from Sha’ Tara.
[a poem by ~burning woman~ ]
The wind howled in the night,
The long shadowed night.
It was the Chinook wind,
I had smelled it earlier
As clouds greyed and darkened,
Disappearing sun and moon.
An owl barked, hooted, laughed
Down in the gully’s copses
And I thought, I hear the owl
And it’s calling my name –
Only it wasn’t me he was calling,
It was a mate and I had no wings.
These two things I mention,
They happened a long time ago.
I wasn’t thinking of death then,
Not by a long shot. I was young,
Barely old enough to feel
That troubling sense in my heart
Which I learned was the call to love.
It is said around here (or was said)
That when the owl calls your name
Your number’s up-death is riding.
Well, I heard the owl again
Last night in the woods
Bordering…
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Writing Despite Computers and Programmes 
Thank you for the reblog, Roger – unexpected and most gratifying!!!
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My pleasure. Sometimes a post just has to be reblogged. No two ways about it.
Something majestic about owls through the woods at night.
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Good share, Roger … thanks!
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Isn’t it just.
Can’t you just hear those howls and the rustling of the woods at night….
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As a matter of fact, I did, and … I felt at home there. Not unnerved at all, but … as if I somehow belonged.
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Yep! 🐺🐺🐺
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