The snowy owl sleeps
through the day,
resting her wings,
her body, her eyes

She waits until darkness
falls to take flight

What path will she take this night?
The familiar line following trees
along the river and up
into the mountains?
She knows it well

But something stirs her, gently
ruffles her feathers-Calling
her out of the familiar
and into the Valley

Not a sad place, but
a place to grow –
until once again, the sun
rises and she sleeps