|One morning during outside work,
the lawn-mower still in its bay,
what happened next was quite a quirk--
a large Barred Owl swooped down my way.
His presence seemed to indicate
a need I soon became aware;
there was no hoot to subjugate--
he still was master of the air.
Yet in his eyes I saw a plea
and to this day I don't know how,
that registered, “Please follow me,”
that I could be of help, and now.
I dropped my rake and followed on,
he looped small circles in the sky.
On through the field, the woods beyond
directed by a winged ally.
We then arrived upon the lake
and now the need became quite clear;
for trapped among the driftwood's wake
in struggle was a young, red deer.
The Barred Owl lighted in an oak,
the hart in snare displayed his fear;
my tone was gentle as I spoke
to calm and comfort nature's ear.
There was a riot of thrashing,
bramble and vine were intertwined;
yet after all of that splashing
the hart and freedom were aligned.
In haste he started off from shore
as I shook water from my crop;
but just as he was at the door
I saw the heart of nature stop.
In sudden hart serenity,
inner peace of the deer composed,
his heartfelt eyes looked right at me
and then to where the Barred Owl dozed.
He looked upon the verdant wood,
then picked a piece of precious land;
he came to me, to where I stood,
and placed a fern within my hand.