The Mountain of the White Faced Owl
Poetry By Anthony James


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The Mountain of the White Faced Owl
Poetry By Anthony James

I am here,

With the mountain-

I See A Large White Bird

Flying, in a circle, down below

Round and round he ascends-

I look around

Before me a window that wraps around

The mountain side-

And the most beautiful wood

Adorns the Frames

The entire place is made of wood

Inside the mountainous rock-

I watch, far down below

The white bird-

He is climbing in altitude

And he's closer now to where I stand

But now I can see that he is a glider not a flyer

His legs are huge and muscular

Kicking off the mountain side

With a force propelling his glide

He is awesome.

I watch in awe at his strength

And he is very close now

His wings are massive

Right outside the window,

A massively thick tree

With massive limbs sits-

It protrudes the rocky mountain-

He lands upon the branch

But his face is turned behind

I cannot see his face at first-

He is as tall as a man-

But then he turns his head

And I see his face-

His face is that of an owls

Pure and White- like a cloud

His eyes are the biggest eyes I've ever seen on a bird

And they are Pure and Blue- like lapis

He blinks his eyes at me several times

And I look at him

And I feel loved.

**** awake *****