The Crying of an Owl

These woeful cries
Echoed to deafen my ears
Like a squelching cargo on mount climb
I felt my broken rib,
Wriggling in my emasculation
For my whole being is in fracas with its faction

This fellow’s cry is a friend rather fiend
As the stormful breeze blows, I bend
To hear its voice of reason rings:
‘Bow fully to the kings
For beatitude is theirs
That you may be counted their heirs’

The voice is woeful
‘Cos it’s truthful
In the combat of reason amd passion.
Its condensation
precipitates a fertile dew
Which is assimilated by few

So my dear hear the Shh! Of owl
To change the world’s garment of fowl
With this decalogue in dialogue:
Be humble lest you stumble
Be gentle or you foolishly rattle
Be charitable or you die insatiable
Give love and be pure as a dove
Be chaste to virtue praxis haste
Grip thy hoe to gracefully reap
Be early at dawn to be hilarious at dusk
Fetch thy wood at dry season for the ember of rainy season
Thy sweat is thy sweet
Lastly grace thy soily hand with God.



2 thoughts on “The Crying of an Owl” by SUNNYDEMAJESTY (@SUNNYDEMAJESTY)

  1. ……………………………………………….
    What beautiful lines
    well-written
    well-rendered
    and well-read
    ……………………………………………….

  2. ufuoma otebele (@ufuomaotebele)

    These lines though!
    “Be humble lest you stumble
    Be gentle or you foolishly rattle
    Be charitable or you die insatiable
    Give love and be pure as a dove.”

    Thank you for this poem.

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