Underneath an ancient oak tree in the woods a noise awoke me
it was near and clear and shook me and it sounded like a hoot.
"God, it's just a bird" I mumbled feeling quite embarrassed and humbled
as I tried to stand but stumbled on the large but hidden root.

I waved my arms and yelled to turn it for my poem does not concern it
it is not about an owl or any other nightly bird.
It's a tale of a heart that's lonely and the passing of the only
soul that I consider worthy of the deepest poems heard.

"Did it scare you?" asked a cheery girly voice behind and nearly
did I jump, instead I merely answered "hey! Stop doing that!"
With a giggle the girl came over then her voice went serious, lower
"our plan is getting nowhere" she said sadly, slumped and sat.

Many times this girl had warned us and her relatives had scorned us
for continuing the journey of my loved one's certain end.
But they had lacked the heart to tell me of the truth that would dispel the
hope that all the threats were things against which guardians could defend.

"I have no solution either" said I leaning back beside her
"talked before- I tried to guide her- but she thinks she must go on"
Then I spoke with feigned conviction like a leader the prediction
"we will find a way, I know it. Guard her 'till the dream has won".