In The Garden

The Owl

The Angel scanned the darkening sky above the garden as night drew her velvet canopy over to bring the soothing darkness. "Ah," she thought, "there she is." Her eyes watched in admiration as the owl glided above the garden, a quiet sentinel. Yes she thought - the gardener had been right - the path had shaped Owl into a guadian of the garden. Had he made her path easier she perhaps would have lingered a bit - but she would not have become what she was now

The Angel fought the desire to run to the small wounded owl who found her way to the garden. The owl had been forced onto a tiny torturous path too narrow to turn around on forcing her to proceed into an ever tightening and painful journey. She had flown to the garden too upset to see where she was, but as the garden folded around her she found something else. Here were others who cared as much as she did, who loved as deeply as she did and they reached out to her. And she realized here also were others as wounded as she was, some more gravely - for they had already traveled the path she was on. And as a new dawn rose she realized this garden was a place of healing - for those wounded, or on the journey, for those who were lost. The Angel had looked to the Gardener. "You can ease her journey," she had pleaded. The Gardener had looked at her and smiled sadly. "No, it is necessary," he had replied. The Angel could only look at the Gardener in disbelief.

So the owl had to fly the gauntlet, but even as she struggled to fly the path before her, without the winds forcing her onto the walls that hemmed in her path, she found strength to help others traveling the path, swooping down to lift them and carry them part of their journey. She arrived in the garden tattered and battered but with great love in her heart. And as she had healed, others began to realize they could turn to her for wisdom and to see into the heart of things.

Now the tiny Owl slept high in the canopy , she was more than some a creature of the night - seeing more in the darkness than most in broad daylight. Because she could see so clearly and paid attention to all she saw she was very wise. Gliding through the night sky the Snowy Owl looked like a night spirit – visiting and watching over the twilight hours. Her wisdom and kindness made her seem a source of endless strength and stability. As night pulled the dark velvet canopy across the sky she stretched and spread her wings.

As Owl drifted , gliding in slow circles to visit Plant, the Halfling watched. She found Owl to be a true friend - one filled with compassion, quiet wisdom, and fiery passion. Owl visited most every night, she called the Halfling Sister and she called the Plant Brother, and her visits were a source of joy to the Halfling and the Plant. And when troubled Owl also turned to the Plant seeking help and wisdom as she sheltered in steady branches that embraced her knowing the Plant drew wisdom from the very soul of the garden, from the ground that held his roots firmly where he grew. The Halfling had heard Owl's story - how she came to the garden through the hard path, and she had been there when Owl had felt the sharp cut of the end of that path, but watching her magnificent friend she was awed and amazed. The path would have crushed many - and many had been lifted from the path into the garden by gentle winds that seemed to know that the one they lifted would perish without help. But Owl had traveled the entire path, and, far from broken, was stronger. Now she traveled with the gentle winds lifting up those who stumbled. Now she was one who others could look to for strength, and wisdom and to listen

© Candace

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