One With the Wind (Poem)

[Underground_Network]

It is a cruel night.
The snow white owl
Calls out to the shadows
But they dare not reply.

The oak tree, in all its misery,
Ascends toward the stars,
Growing an inch each day,
Slowly getting closer and closer
To its unreachable goal.

And that same oak tree
Is where the snow white owl resides
As water descends from the heavens
And pitter-patters on the sidewalk,
And slithers down the leaves
Of the misery-laden oak tree.

A drop splashes onto the top of the head of the owl
And it hoots aloud to the midnight,
Spreading both of its wings
Letting go of the ever-growing oak tree
And flying deep into the black sky:
Gliding between white lightning bolts
Sifting through thunder, God's roar;
Quietly fading into the night,
Becoming one with the wind.