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I am the owl, the owl of love.
At night, I suck it in, I suck it in.
By the day, the startled morn,
I breathe it out again.
Alone on the branch, the owl of love,
with the stars and the moon
and the moon over cloud.
I take in the souls of the minds of the world
and sift out the weeds from the few.
Breathing it in, breathing it out,
over again and again and again.
I am speckled like the hare,
I may not breathe again.
Alone on a branch, holding it in,
I sift through the minds and the souls of the world.
I am shattered by the calm.
I may not breathe again.

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