I am the night owl flapping its wings stealthily through your dreams with a soft feathery touch you may remember you once imagined like the figure at the end of the corridor whose face always remains in the shadow
I am the sower of images growing from the dark touching your mind gently tapping at forbidden doors closed to the brighter hours
I am the prowler of twilight thoughts that lend shapes to your hopes and fears and desires living their lives in between
I am the night owl that shudders and folds its wings quietly when the sun rises always too soon patiently waiting again until the day is done