Krista Kurth Poet Free verse

The Owl and the Meditator

In the midst of meditation
Sinking into silence 
In the setting sun
Comes the haunting hoot
Of an obscure owl 
In the nearby autumn woods
Whoo, whoo, whoo, whoo!
Echoing the quiet question 
Resonating in the recesses 
Of my primordial mind, 
Who, Who, Who, Who 
Am I?

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Corinne Curcio September 12, 2009 at 7:57 AM This put a smile on my face. Well done Krista.

Carol Sunshine Brown September 11, 2009 at 4:58 PM Thank you for sharing your wonderful poetry today Krista. Love, Carol

Sara Kendrick September 11, 2009 at 4:17 PM Question asked by all of us from time to time. Inside sometimes the voice says you really don't want to know. Sara

Robin L. Gass September 11, 2009 at 7:00 AM What a beautiful image you have penned, Krista. A deep and reflective write. Thank you for sharing and your thoughtful comment! Love, Robin

Moonbee Canady September 10, 2009 at 5:12 PM Hi Krista... I like this poem... I too have always loved the thought of the own talking like a human... (and even more curious than we are at that (smile)... Thank you also for your kind comments... Keep Writing and I'll be checking out your words... MoonBee

Veronica Joseph September 10, 2009 at 3:17 PM yes. I used to have a tree on property where an owl would sit at dusk and ask that question, my dogs would wait in the field for the question...