Alone, one night, I sat beneath the moon.
Oaks and maples, they mingled in the breeze,
And a tranquil voice somewhere in dark trees
Asked a question; I’ve not become immune
To the stillness of night; yet I’ve learned to
Appreciate quiet calls from shadow,
Like wisdom left to help my soul to know
Tomorrow; and forget what I’ve been through.
Night is simple that way; it won’t let you
Forget your past, while it encourages
Tomorrow’s promise; it won’t discourage
Dawn, bringing hope, color and morning dew.
That night, I listened to a lone Owl’s Who,
And found my heart the one he’d spoken too.
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