Owlita

Hey Mamita Barn Owlita,

Who who hoot do you see looking back from me? Do i hold the same wise eyes you keep hooting alive, the unrealized cry to release all fear from the flurry. Still the mountain is cold and the deserts are dry, this is why you have learned to cut through the sky in not even a blink of an eye. Your razor sharp silence couldn't be heard if I try, unless I make room for my inborn middle eye.

Oh Owlita in the air your wisdom provokes, talons in the depth of my darkest hardest parts that need to be stoked. The choice you perspire... are they omens that shriek, or may it be the hoot hooting glistening clear-light I see. Either way Now I know the choice is up to me.

Oh Barn Owlita Mamita, relaxed, aware and unafraid, your buddha-full weightless double-lids protect your full-mooning eyes from that which is hid. Out front my window you were there but now you are gone. In the morning light i find you by the roadside. Was it the rodenticide that took your life? - total injustice in its rife; or were you struck by the stun from a headlamp on a truck?

I double check to be sure your not alive, oh Barn Owlita Mamita please please survive. I promise to wake my neighbors from your sobering demise, should it be poison about no one will soulfully get out alive. Your inner-wisdom laid in my seat warming my third eye, I cry... never to be wavering again in my fire-lit trust to what is real is what must. Has your Love taken its last stand?

Oh Barn Owlita Mamita your body has gone forever, so with ceremony I bury you in the backyard under the pinion pine. Your full-feathered offerings are not just for me they are for the healing of humanity; to share your wise-earth medicine for all beings to BE. Just as you held space for me seldomly dropping a feather from the sky for me to find, now the fate of your whole right and left wing are for me to decide.

True is your self-regulating nature to keep balance and harmony. Hoot hoot whistle and screech.... up there crying wide-eyed in the tree is your chittering hungry babes calling back at me. Oh Barn Owlita Mamita reflecting in your resplendence... where are your wee babe owlitas to go?

Still legends abound yet unafraid to see through all the illusion let there be no more confusion. From the Northland the elders have spoken, as Athena and Artemis I too am partnering-up with this parliament nation of owl intuition. Oh Barn Owlita Mamita we have crafted an owl box for your wee babes to be home in our gardens grow. If rodents or raccoons are abundant and need to be made redundant your wee owlitas will always be the senoritas to hold judgment.

I know like I know the owl in you saw the owl in me, for it is only what i believe to be, will be. Blessed are those who hear your wee babes hoot! Oh Barn Owlita Mamita two-legged, silent-flighted winged seraphim, thank you for your life living, walking, breathing-flight on the red road in service to the whole fledged nation. Continual is the Ahhhhhh for the ethics in your Natural Beauty, and our better nature. All My Relations,

Love you all ways Barn Owlita

by amber brovelli