Summer drifts on the warm night air and still the owl’s soft cry
Echoes on the wind carrying to distant places where she longs to fly
Silently, sadly, swiftly she swoops down over the summer sheaves
Tears soft as feathers fall on the small scurrying creatures below
Hiding from habit, they slide under rocks and fallen leaves
Unaware that the owl is seeking other forms of prey
Now seeming both long ago and oh! so far away.
A whisper of sound on the air as she takes again to solitary flight
Deep in memory, she sees the picture of a warm and secret smile
Etched in swirling patterns of leaves and on the soft dark night.
Denizen of magic and of memory, he waits in the owl’s shadow,
Cloaked in mystery, the half-seen feline form stands a while
Moves quickly, tiger-stripes and gleaming eyes fiercely burn
Owl overhead glimpsing movement tries too late to turn.
Lithe and dangerous, now in a Cheshire Cat’s disguise
The Tiger prowls the starry night, the moon reflecting in his eyes
Warm things, wondrous things, soft things crouch in the dark and hide
The whispered caution floats through the trees and on the wind
All in his path live in awe; the wisest under camouflage quickly slide
Briefly the shadow of the owl’s wing falls across the Tiger’s face.
The golden cat runs swiftly on the ground while above the bird of night joins the race.
Their shadows meet for a moment; they are nearly one, and then they fall away.
The dangerous and mysterious predator swiftly turns to seek new and eager prey,
Preferring the cut and thrust of cat and mouse to that of easy sacrifice,
Regal, mesmerising, the Tiger’s beauty never fails the curious to entice.
He sheaths his claws; warm soft fur and gentle purr is now the instinctive disguise
Stretching, yawning, fangs fleetingly exposed, the Tiger is well pleased with what he’s found
The new collector’s item moves closer, lulled by charisma and the Tiger’s warm soft sound.
Across the night sky the owl’s silhouette blocks the stars shining light
As she soars above the Tiger’s path on the warm wind of the night
She lightly perches way up high, hidden in the tops of the trees
And slowly turns her head through memory a full 360 degrees
Knowing well with predators what is said and done is not all one sees
Smiles to think that the sinuous hunter once stalked the watchful bird of prey
Came quite close, then suddenly once the rules were broken, swiftly turned away.
In the dark velvet night the stars tumble and fall, under the rising moon
The creatures of the night rush into the shadows aware dawn comes too soon
The owl’s low haunting cry stirs memory of things long forgotten in the past
As she flies on in the secret indigo night, her soft voice a reminder nothing will last
In the undergrowth the Tiger still waits silently concealed in the dappled shadow
Night blood runs in their veins, creation in their minds; a kinship only these two can know
Both predators of the dark hours, one soaring in the sky, the other crouched below.
No comments:
Post a Comment