Owl, A Region’s Guardian

Owl, A Region’s Guardian

When I looked at the horizon one day I saw Owl, in the geometry of the geography, the lines and curves of the snow covered mountains. Spring 2012.

Owl sits in residence,
Up high,
Where the land meets the sky,
Like a judge at the bench,
Presiding over a valley’s workings.

Owl knows the heartbeat

Of every sentiment,

The flowing of the river’s current,

The seasons of the earth’s emergence,

Man’s choices of living,

Supply and demand of the economy’s engine,

The teaching of the region’s institutions,

The flow of business in the valley’s creations,

The rise and fall of competition,

The doings of our structures governings.

The sun rises and sets.

Owl quiely rests,

Above manifestation.

A regime
Will enter a region.
No matter
From the right or the left,
Or vertically descending.

It will masquerade as a piece of the culture
Inherent to its destination.
It will begin its agenda of pretending
To be a part of the community’s renderings.

It will seek to destroy
Every threat to its goal of winning
Over a population to its messaging.
It will take the power
Of the environment’s workings
By undermining
Every cultural element, citizen, business, teaching,
All the things that lead to success of the community
And its people’s living,
As much as it can
To successfully propagate its agenda.
Its trees will produce fruit.
Is this fruit right for the region?

What does this mean
For the community?
Owl is a gift of clarity.
Keep your eyes on the horizon
And awareness in acuity,
Steadfastly watchful,
That all goes well
For families, creatures, our land masses
And waters, our living and breathing.

A field of produce
Rests in the sun,
Patches of wasteland
Here and about,
A gourd garden,
Ripened for harvest.
To the left,
It beckoned.

Through a hardened
Dirt passageway
I entered.
The crop I surveyed
Was lying in wait
For buyers.

Not one piece of fruit
Had grown as it should.
Many were warped,
And deformed,
Dried out, untended,

A field not producing
A worthy crop of light
Must lie fallow
Until destiny dictates
A new time for growing.

©2012 Cindy Eksuzian, all rights reserved.

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For more information, see my “About Me” page.  Or, click on the picture and be directed to my website.

About Cindy Eksuzian

See my "about me" page.
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