The Wise Old Owl. Poem by Sandra Kavanagh Josefsson

The wise old owl,
did not do very much.
He sat on a branch
of the tree of life
and looked at us humans
with our daily strifes.

He looked at how some of us
wanted to improve ourselves.
Not our manner or way of thinking,
but with our monetary gains.
He saw that some of us
thought our success was in what we owned,
not in the people that stayed.

He saw how we built our lifes,
looking for happiness and peace.
Not knowing that true peace
comes within if we cease,
to stop and stare,
to appreciate what we have,
to be vulnerable and bare.

We have all we need within us.
The love that we are looking for.
That wise old owl,
he sits in his tree, because
he has done this all before.

Verse: Sandra Kavanagh (c) .