Decoding Twilight
Walking the woods,
evening caressing my face
with its moleskin fingers,
eyes blue-flamed
by a shape-shifting twilight.
Listening to the deep delving sounds
of forest roots
as they clutch the earth close
before another nocturnal drama
slinks close enough to pounce.
Hoot owl calling,
hoot owl answering.
For a moment
I am one short life, a brief fluttering in
the actualization of a sound.
There are stars in those owl eyes,
in the black acres of its gaze
my eyes there also – looking back.
Look!
See the swivel of our night watch?
see the communion,
the simplicity of vision
as owl and I stare
into the same coming shadows.
This swift way of being
demands only blood and union;
owl knowing has
ears on the pulse of us all,
and this stroll –
just a droplet of time
acknowledging
its walk
through infinity.
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