As if the quiet moon had hypnotised the wood to give it mood, her secondary light silhouettes the owl that blinks with one lid the sunlight in the dark ! What aeons forged it’s silent passage to alight unnoticed, poised like a star on the voids abyss to perch on a bough ! What conjured up that spell - cast form to present it for night, and that tremulous call - the most lunar song of all ! To fly unhurried on it's way though seldom by the light of day - from shade to shade pure spirit as if the turning world, knew it ?
.................................... From towards Atman.
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