Orange Feather
From deep in the night
I hear the ghost owl's eerie song
I don't hear his wings
But his voice comes in nice and strong
I cannot see him
The shadows have covered my eyes
Though my sight is gone
The sound of his voice never dies
He's hailing for me
I follow the sound of his call
And I trust his path
He inspired me to give my all
Off in the distance
A light appears, sparring the night
And as I draw near
I notice he still hides from sight
But he left a gift
An orange feather rests by my feet
A sign he is real
I shall follow him till we meet
ShyWolf
I adore owls. Finding the feather as you follow and search is lovely , giving inspiration for they are wise, I like this - thank you
I adore owls. Finding the feather as you follow and search is lovely , giving inspiration for they are wise, I like this - thank you
Susan Jarvis
You adore owls, and this poem sweeps along like a beautiful song in the wake of the ghost owl. I love the orange feather :)
You adore owls, and this poem sweeps along like a beautiful song in the wake of the ghost owl. I love the orange feather :)
Pook
I think you like owls.:-)
I think you like owls.:-)
A feather on one's trail is a gift. You are on The Path of the Feather...