Every Thursday, on that particular branch
In our park
Sat Harry the Owl
He watched the people, the world
As it passed by
He saw me jogging there one afternoon
His owly eyes gazed into
My soul
He knew by the look on my face
That I was worried about money
How am I going to pay my bills?
Why is money so hard to come by?
Why Is this always a problem?
How can I market myself so that employers hire me? Or at least call me back?
How can I break into this field as a newcomer when 5 years is the minimal required experience?
Why after all this study and preparation is nothing happening?
How can I change this?
Who can I talk to?
How can I support my family?
How can I be a good example for my kids?
How can I make a difference in this world?
Can I do more than just barely survive?
Harry the Owl knew my inner thoughts
He guessed all in one momentary glance
He had many words of advice to give
But the problem was
He only spoke Owlish, not
English
So he couldn’t communicate with me
I looked up at him for a couple seconds
Smiled
And went on my way
Never knowing Harry’s wisdom
Never learning the answers to these
Burning questions
And so many others
My eyes had locked with his
And he swiveled his head the
Other way
No chance to tell me
What he wanted to
Say
Something
Anything
To make
My day
We are ships passing as
In the night
But on two different rivers
We are two entities
In the universe
But in two vastly different
Worlds
I will meet you
Harry the Owl
And hear all of your
Heartful wisdom
Tomorrow morning
At 4 am
In my dreams . . .
~ Gunnar Våken