Many owls hoot around this house.
It goes on at full length the night.
Broken record hoots on a treadmill,
stirring sheets, I'm up at one window,
then another. Dog ugh's his dismay,
not with the owls, with me.

I ugh back.

Certainly, I'd prefer somnolence
as well. So roll over Rover, this
infectious restlessness has gone
epidemic. Now coyotes are cackling.
The ever out there is in here, again.

I begin my jotting in the one thumbed
way of our present day. Thank a
saturation of stars for our modern
cellular contraptions. We can all now
fiddle away the night and not disturb
our precious pet's rest.

Timeliness of nature and creative
spiritual awakenings align.
Sometimes.

As the moon shines
And the stars decorate the sky,
A lonely owl hymns
While the bats fly.
Lightning bugs scatter around
Like will-o'-the-wisps at night,
Without any sound
Oh, what a delight!
The neighbour's hound is on guard
She will not allow anyone to pass,
No one is allowed in her yard
At this hour, only a fool will walk on her grass.
Her howl pierces the air
Bringing an end to the silence,
She announces she won't share
She will not tolerate any form of violence.
Across the street, few floors above
Two players are taking their turns,
In the famous game of push and shove
While a tiny candle burns.













Tanay Sengupta, Copyright © 2018.
All Rights Reserved

In the middle of the night
as the breeze soothes the mind.
A lonely owl steps out to the light,
leaving his nest behind.
The moon shines
and the wind blows.
A nightingale hymns
while the gaslight glows.

Nocturnal creative artists at work.
The night fuels their quirk.
Then a sudden cacophony disturbs the air.
A noise no one can bare.
From a distance it can be heard.
It whistles, but it is not a bird.

It slows as it reaches its destination.
Breaking through the peace with its whistle.
The train stops as it reaches the station.

I say unto you with a sniveling snarl,

Will you go on and be friends with an owl?

Why, YES! I said boldly with a pompety grin

My new owl friend will be lucky and win!

He will hoot and toot a most beautiful song

He will win a singing contest and sing all day long

We will take all his winnings and spend it on mead

We'll sing, drink and be merry, indeed!

we'll capture a horse and dress it in tweed

then ride to the sunset on our horse named, "Sardine!"

Sardine might get hungry so we'll feed him some hemp

We'll lay down to rest on a bed that's unkempt

We'll wake in the morning to see Sardine's fate

Sardine has died from starvation this date

The sorrow we feel is so hard to beat

So opon his flesh we started to eat

w'ell pair it with taters all mashed in a pan

we'll eat up our dinner as fast as we can

but hold on a second, how silly are we!

We tripped on some mushrooms we found on a tree!

our minds started swirling and twirling; so dizzy!

my owl friend shrieked and then started to tizzy

he gouged out my eyes and laughed at my pain

I fell to the ground and made peace with my name

for I never did say from whence I came

cause stories like this are not easy to tame

I lay here in misery, my friend's not to blame

It's all in my head, this silly word game

So late at night,
When the all the birds sleep,
An owl awakes,
With bigs eyes,
Eyes picturing you,
Waiting for you to rise from slumber,
An owl awakes...

Flamingo you are,
What more I can say,
Beautiful more than anyone,
A charming bird,
Ready to fly in the open sky,
Play with clouds,
Rise high and high,
Just don't forget this owl,
With open eyes,
Eyes with you in them,
Awake so late at night...

“Why is it you always write about the night?”/ he asks as he sees her scribbling down her thoughts again late at one in the morning.

She turns to him, unfazed and gives him a smile meant for the sun to shine down on.

“Because I feel there’s more sense into them. The night and us have something in common— something only the two us get.”

He lets her words sink into him, now looking over her shoulder with wonder in his eyes. He touches her ink stained fingers, pulling it close to his chaste lips.

“I do feel it.” He nods wholeheartedly, letting his eyes flutter with the beating of his heart echo in each other’s mind. She do hope he feels hers, too.

This is what she meant. It’s the silence and wishes that surrounds them. It’s the serene feeling, the stillness between them, that’s meant to be under the stars and the moonlight casting over their skins.

She finds comfort in the stars as it reminds her of his bright lit eyes. As he feels safe under the moonlight every night; it’s her softness that draws him the same with the moon in the sky.

The moon and the stars will not bat an eye as they just continue to look after you.

It is the night that hears the most silent and powerful prayers from the heart.

And I do hope at some nights, no matter how far we are, he would be awake as I am not visited by sleep— he would think how somewhere out there, there’s someone wishing to be a moon to another like him. There’s also someone wishing to be closer with the stars.

— ironically, I wrote this at dawn.

Dream-like, the owl perched
High upon a headless pillar
As a surrealistic statue
Bathed in a lupine moonlight

A still night
Wintery and ghost-like
I had suddenly noticed the owl
And got the feeling
It had always been there
That I had been unaware

The two of us had been staring
At the same view of the city lights
Its head then moved
As if in a nightmare
I blinked, but still it was there
Alone and timeless.