An Owl Slept

An owl slept on a cable line drawn tight 
between two poles beside a country road.
What lucid visions pulse within its fastened claws?
What powerful words ring within its grasp and resonate
within its slackened jaws?
Does any wisdom sing therein, or merely the tawdry
and trite reflections of a culture gone
so far awry, so fast asleep?

TV enthralled and unconscious,
tossing and turned in darkling dreams,
disturbed by news of distant wars,
unwarranted and unjust,
just pillage and scorched earth
and burnt out bravery,
to salve the greedy cravings
of some few super-criminals.

Who do so because they can, without remorse,
and no more code, nor even Morse code,
carries a caring signal through the darkened night,
so far from and unaware of the Sacred Light, 
on which all signals ride and would of its own accord
en-lighten and waken ev'ry mind.

Should the owl's meditations turn on these
distant dark'ning forms? 
Or fly afar through its lighted mind 
in dreams of stealth and field mice,
locked solely in its pers'nal predations
and depredations, and deprivations
and private sensations?

How local is the scope of any little mind,
whose vision spans what only small eyes can see?
And even though magnified by telescopes, or televisions,
or linear accelerators, what little more can
any man or woman see?

How local is the scope of Man
within Reality so vast?
How focal is the grasp and grip
of any heart at last?

What final intervention eases
each heart to open b'yond its past?
What random spin turns each around 
after the die is cast?

---

Nik Boyd, Jan. 2008