Those eyes – I felt them before I saw them.
The soft touch of curious alertness
Followed my steps along the dirt path
Between two large and aging teak trees.
Looking up, I scanned the branches,
Detecting an observant presence.
But I could not see anything other than
Leaves, bark and bright white sky.
I saw two-yellow-eyes staring down at me.
An owl – a small grey and white feathered being,
Sitting like a tree-yogi in open-eyed meditation.
He didn’t seem to mind when the flash went off.
He didn’t fly off or hide when I
Stepped forward for a closer view.
He sat quietly watching from a high-branch,
as I moved in the shadow of the tree.
What better meeting than this mutual appreciation
Of two forms distinct in their outer wear,
But the same in silent mystery –
What better meeting could there possibly be
Under the branches of an aging teak tree.