The bird called out yet another night,
changing my curiosity to fright.
Was there a message in his calling for me?
A bad omen, this cannot be.
Now I wait and stress all day,
wishing this bird would just go away.
I pull dusty books from the shelf,
hoping for answers to calm myself.
Another night comes, the bird keeps calling.
Searching the dark woods, I keep falling.
This messenger I cannot find,
now reserving a spot in my mind.
Madness overpowers my brain,
thinking of this bird I must refrain.
But there must be a reason,
for his presence in this season.
Must I assume this message is bad,
why would I think this bird sounds mad?
So much thought for just a bird call,
after all, it is just a bird call.
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About Writing
Most people talk about things that bother them as a way to vent their emotions, another way is through writing. As I sit writing in my car, I ponder how much writing, in itself, has helped me become the person I am today. I have endless amounts of pages filled with poems, stories, and sometimes random blurbs. Writing is a window into your soul. The simple action of writing has benefited me; by helping me to achieve a better memory, helping me to learn and grow intellectually, and helping me to communicate my emotions.
By Sarah Wilcox7 days ago in Journal
Comments (1)
Owl contains All Medicine. It is always calling to us. The only thing ominous is trying not to hear it, for it is always there to help.