Landing

I am a great white owl,

new resident of a different home 

than the home of my birth.

My birth, a labour of love and creativity, divined by a gentle human hand brought me to life from strange concoctions spread with brushes and washed in running water.

With paint and colour, 
softly feathered wings spread wide, 

curved talons, gloved in feather white, stretched for the forest floor.

Then, winging silently from a dark forest,

I was carried to this new land by a sisterly soul.

Where was I to land?

Offerings of several pleasing perches 

acceptable but never comfortable, 

these brief landings merely moved,
and then moved again,

to help me find my place.

I have finally landed, 

resting in a window bright corner 

surrounded by deep cranberry colour.

Landing ~ where I watch life

outside and in with 

clear yellow eyes.

Sheltered and free, I have found my place. 

“One’s destination is never a place but

 rather a new way of looking at things.”

~ Henry Miller