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.