Owl Among the Ruins

I am like a desert owl,

            like an owl among the ruins.

Below me a city is blighted

            in piles of rubble and stone.

Embers burn in silent cries,

            smoke chokes out the tears.

On the ground all is desolate,

            the grass of the field has withered.

Skin and bones are but remnants

            of dwellings that once were filled.

The days are darkened by ash

            and so nighttime is commonplace here.

There are sparse groans of anguish,

            rare cries for relief arise.

Though they are squashed by the quiet,

            the cries are muffled by the ruins.

I am like a desert owl,

            circling overhead in the sky.

Like an owl among the ruins

            I see solace amidst the rubble.

Others find loss and despair,

            they see only wreckage and death.

But, there in the ruins lies promise,

            pieces of debris become hope.

I am like a desert owl,

            I pass beneath the moon and the sun.

Like an owl among the ruins

            I see beauty where others find none.