The White Owl

Here’s my owl story, inspired by my owl print and the below words that I chose to use in writing this story snippet….

the word prompts….

tale, tall, texture, tingle, tone, torch, trail, transcend, transfix, transitory, travel, tree, tumble, twilight

“The White Owl”

traveling up the steep mountain trail
i stopped to light my torch as twilight approached
i had a late start

my pack was heavy
full of herbs that i had gathered for Maven
but this time
something was wrong
this time her usual monthly order
contained over a year’s worth of supplies

the tone of her note
felt urgent
hastily written
the texture of her usually fine handwriting
was sloppy with speed
she had forgotten to include yarrow
her favorite herb
on her list
so i gathered
a large supply of the flowers
and added them
to my pack

Maven was the local healer and wise woman
she lived in a tiny village
on the other side
of the broad mountain range
it took me a full day
to reach her

this time
i would be
traveling by

i paused to catch my breath
on the steep path

i shivered
as i felt the tingle
of the drift of evening chill

i was caught off guard
by an odd feeling
that i wasn’t coming back
i tried to hastily
my fear
but the feeling lingered
and shivered
through my body

i passed through the tall trees standing like sentinels
at the edge of the alpine meadow
as my thoughts continued
to haunt me

this might be
the last
that i set foot
in this

as i reached the steep vista beyond

i lingered for a moment

stopping to gaze at the expansive overlook
as always i was in awe of the natural beauty
of waterfalls
of streams
of the vast forest
in the valley far below
and beyond

feeling nostalgic
i told myself

stop it

i will return to this place
tomorrow evening
after delivering the herbs
to Maven

but strangely
i didn’t feel fully

i turned toward the setting sun
as it was streaming out its final rays
the sky was lit with the soft filtered golden light
it filled me up with a profound feeling of peace
a quiet state of grace

that’s when i saw her

a solitary white owl
angelic, yet of this earth
silent in flight

I stood still

the moment
was transitory
but far reaching and expansive
it felt as if, for a moment
i had transcended space and time
i felt the nerves throughout my body
tingle and pulse
with a rush
of energy

for a moment i couldn’t move
i felt a visceral change
that something
had shifted
deep inside
of me

Maven had told me the tales
of the transformational experience
of encountering a spirit guide
of the earthly realm

she told me
seek not to find them
for they will never appear upon command
but that the spirit guide
will appear when you are ready
but not necessarily willing
to hear and follow
their message

she said
take note
for the words

will give you guidance
in times of great

think of it as
your north star
she told me

the whispered words of the white owl
tumbled out quickly:

silent flight
wisdom within
the purity of truth

i wasn’t sure
what the three bits of wisdom meant
or how i would follow the white owl’s guidance
as i steadied my pack
and headed up the mountain
into the approaching darkness of the night
but there was one thing i knew
for certain

something profound
had shifted
in my life as
i had known it

maybe i wouldn’t return to this place
maybe i would be here tomorrow

but i knew that
my life
be the same

Written by Susan Eileen Jizba
Weaver and Wordsmith….the Weaver of Words

……weaving fibers & fables
……………give me 15 words and I’ll tell you a tale…………


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2 Responses to The White Owl

  1. shemann says:

    amazing story, well done, I was on the edge of my seat, so much talent

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