~()~()~()

There is an owl
deep in my being
who has never moved.

A kingdom bristles around him
which he's never tampered with.
Officials ascend their ranks,
order the assemblage of shielded walls
which burglars climb
he stays perched.

It is uncertain what power
he possesses;
he does not crave power.

You may picture him in marble
at the floor of an overcast ocean;
but his habitat is deeper
and weightier still.

If I can stir him
maybe his wings would sound
like the energy in marble,
which is never still.

But I let him
breathless hold the living center
he has no task to perform with his claws
what holds him
I must move rightly to feel

~()~()~()