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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?

Copyright © | Year Posted 2009




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Date: 9/12/2009 7:57:00 AM
This put a smile on my face. Well done Krista.
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Date: 9/11/2009 4:58:00 PM
Thank you for sharing your wonderful poetry today Krista. Love, Carol
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Date: 9/11/2009 4:17:00 PM
Question asked by all of us from time to time. Inside sometimes the voice says you really don't want to know. Sara
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Date: 9/11/2009 7:00:00 AM
What a beautiful image you have penned, Krista. A deep and reflective write. Thank you for sharing and your thoughtful comment! Love, Robin
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Date: 9/10/2009 5:12:00 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
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Date: 9/10/2009 3:17:00 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...
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