White Owl.

i watched white owl glide gradually over the land

suddenly dropping like a stone into the dense grass only to return to

dance spirals back again as fluid as thick evening's light

And then into flight,

back on the wings of freedom.

when we watch the white owl

and learn {or remember} that we are Free,

we see it is not our destiny to be still

{& it never was...},

for never did our souls rest
in the embers of the flame -

but rather they carried away

in the smoke on its way

to the wild sky

and lashing winds

of Brave freedom.

*

So we meditate in the woodlands and walk over the flat plains of this country wading through nettles crushing them under bare feet, taking only their sweet tasting stinging scars with us on our journeys :and by this act do we cleanse the future for these wayward feet that never seem to struggle; even beneath me...

*