First Flight

He sits on the highest tree branch alone

While hidden cicadas whir and drone.

His great gold eyes scan the summer night.

His snowy feathers gleam in the moonlight.

With a leap, he soars into the starry sky,

His senses alert, his wings ready to fly.

The darkness reveals its secrets to the young owl

As he begins his nocturnal prowl.

Below he hears music and spies a house.

Flying past a field, he spots a mouse.

Catching the wind beneath his wings,

 He flies to the grove where The Goddess sings.

Resting, he watches the restless river run.

From moon-rise to dawn's first light,

he has reveled in his first flight.

But now he must race the rising sun.

For the owl's world is the night.