Ode To The Owl

(First draft originally published September 28th, 2018. Final version published October 29th, 2018.)

 

 

“Who was it, who?”

Asks the owl in the tree.

“Who opened this wound?

Who made us all bleed?”


“Who flipped on the switch,

That left all of us blind?

Who corrupted this peace?

Who caused all this strife?”

 

“Who stole our smiles,

And replaced them with frowns?

Who altered the currents,

That kept worlds going round?”


“Who blamed all the others,

Instead of blaming themselves?

Who destroyed all our hope?

Who poisoned our well?”


“Who ever so bluntly,

Beat the drum in the night?

Who altered our pictures?

Who altered our lives?”


“Who was this wolf,

Dressed in wool of the sheep?

Who stirred boiling pots?

Who conjured this beast?”


“Who was it?” sings owl,

From a limb way up high.

“Who asks all these questions,

Without asking why?”


Who replicates,

Through words as though preached.

Who's are the lesson, old owl,

In the Who’s that you reach.