Grandma told me many stories,
but the one that I remember.
Is one where, an owl was born,
in a freezing cold December.
She told me that this tiny owl,
could see our souls, witin her sight.
Peering straight into our spirits,
turning the darkness into light.
And as she told of this story,
I was flooded with a vision.
I saw white wings, upon my back
and I flew with great precision.
And when she had finished speaking,
I felt such of, a great release.
For I was captured in her words
and the owl spirits sent me peace.
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