Slow Rise tone, iPhone alarm, toned out,
By owl hoots first thing this morning at 6 o’clock,
And not one minute past.
Coffee and an old long sleeve pajama
Shirt with a pocket to
Carry compartmentalized curative
Medication to the Kuerig,
Situated and stitched with a logo
That used to be cool many years ago,
Now just good for cool mornings
While these high, tree dwelling, dueling, sonorous,
Echoing owl hoots sort of pray in their own,
Please me way; making rhythmic, non-written-treatises
Of who, who, ah-who, hoooo would have heard
A humility prayer in the midst
Of it for hacks and crooks; hooters and looters too?
Hoo. Hoo, hoo. Who doesn’t despise all those
People tooting their own horns nowadays?
I look up to a picture of Mary
With a hand gesture to the Lord baby Jesus
And I feel that all is well, the sound of
Great horned owls in the morning air;
Balancing a cup of brewed black coffee
Back to the command room where another
Day of waged war against the horned devil
Will begin with precise assaults and
Persevering persistence; a loving
Gift at prayer time from a small, undeveloped
Wooded area; proof of His affection.
- Gary Edward Geraci