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.