Owl Medicine
I remember that dewy morning walk
with a Great Horned Owl
lying next to her severed left wing
on a final bed of wilting green grass
Her eyes majestically
Open Sesame
Closing in a cardboard box
my arms were graced to carry
to her shallow grave.
I remember billowing ribbons
of my lonely vapored breath
sweeping out toward yellow brown hay stubble fields
surrounding our red barn and fake-brick farmhouse
Carrying messianic wonder and hope,
worry and fear and unworthy sobs
for this Earth,
so richly endowed with ionic
ironic wisdom
to choose me for Her
great-winged MultiCulturing Opera.
But, I was eight
with much, already, to unlearn,
and this may be why Sage Owl
had come to vaccinate me,
to show me through her dying
that EarthTribe mentors me
To ask for water
cupped in young right caring hand
open to Her infinite swelling eyes
leaking thirsty freedom justice
tipping toward sea salty balance
engaging all Earth's polycultured Peace.
I buried Her shaman
for far too long;
Apparently justice flies
with older peace-thirsty wisdom.
We are each ecological
neurosystemic muses
doing our song/dance best,
blindly dodging barbed wire
commercial colonizing fences.
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