Develop

A young barn owl that never learned to fly. Sitting in his nest, questioning his life.

Wondering this or that, thinking if he’ll ever grow to soar.

Walking on the ground, made fun of by the others; searching for worms by digging with talons.

Eating less than those gifted, not having friends or loved ones to give him wishes.

Not a soul to teach or spirit to bestow, not another in presence to take under their wing.

The little owl could get cold.

Doing its best to fly like the rest, jumping from trees and rocks, spreading his breast.

Constantly falling, always face-planting; on the verge of giving up and quitting.

The other owls mock and crow, filled with laughter as one doesn’t know.

As time goes on, and parents less forgiving, he eventually is excommunicated and evicted.

He wanders the trees and mountains, the oceans and grasslands.

Walking and running, yet never fluttering.

“Only if” constantly thinking - “only how” always asking.

He does his best, climbs the trees; he does his worst, falls the distance.

Across the way you can hear his pounce, him landing on his head and defeating self.

Filled with sorrow, frighted with inadequence; sitting against a tree, contemplating ending it.

But one shows their face, a little gerbil who spectates, knowing the owl only eats bugs.

With no fear or concern, the little gerbil asks “what's wrong?”

“I cannot fly, I cannot soar. I will never be like those before.”

“Well you cannot give up, you cannot quit. You must be like those who have learned to dig.”

“Oh you silly rodent, I should eat you like my brothers would. What kind of owl burrows underground?”

“Oh you scared owl, I should leave you like your brothers did. But I want to teach and help you, see what I do.”

The gerbil took his skill, created a system of tunnels, pulling the owl along and teaching him his ways.

The owl followed suit, and saw beneath the soot.

Although he may dream of the air, he sleeps in the dirt.

Gerbil, teaching techniques of digging beneath; owl, learning lessons of talon discretion.

After many weeks, perhaps months; a flightless bird learned to use much.

A way of resource allocation and using his strengths, getting lost in caverns and found in delight.

The gerbil greeted his family and they all got acquainted,

The owl turn groundhog with his new friends.

He decides to return home, show off his skills; he travels many moons - and goes alone.

Once back he emerges from the ground, as you’d imagine was greeted with a bellow of laughter.

“What kind of owl lives underground?” They yelled

“What kind of owl burrows below?” They bellowed

“What kind of owl doesn’t fly?” Asked his mother and his father.

But now the owl had a sense of independence, and although he wished to fly, he wished not to live with these owls.

“What kind of family treats their youngest this way?”

“What kind of family doesn’t teach properly?”

“What kind of mother or father sends their kid away?”

There was time of silence, they knew they had not reached out their hands.

They knew they were at blame. They knew this was best.

The owl looked them all up and down, and he said with a puffed out chest;

I won’t come back, but if I do, it’ll be in the air by the sight of the moon.

He scratched and clawed the dirt, making a way of passage.

He left them again, but now by choice. He again traveled far and wide in search of another owl family to help him learn.

He found not such a thing, but he did find fish, and instead of pulling them from the water, he dived right in.

“I may be weird and wacky; I want to learn to swim.”

In the river, being ice cold. In the water being quite bold; the fish taught him to go with the flow, To be brave against the current, and the unknown.

He almost drowned, he almost died, but he stayed with it and came to rise.

Rise upriver that is, and soon could dig and swim.

Then the owl continued his quest, and he soon came upon a nest.

Those that live inside weren’t the friendlies eyes,

But they did show him hospitality and the ensemble of eagles trained his sight.

With some time and strain, with some broken gain, the owl then learned to see past the horizon.

Continue he did, in search of great, he found a gang of bears.

With some luck and some charm, they taught him their great art: hibernating.

He sleep for many weeks, then time it came to leave.

He went beyond for more, his thirst for knowledge growing ever more.

Next he found a king with a crown.

Next he found the jungle and it’s lion.

“What can you teach me?” he said; “take a seat” said he.

The beast told him what he knew:

“The number one thing is lead with compassion

Number two is to always be brave.

Use your heart and follow your instincts, use your love and come to be trusting.”

The bird stayed for a few days, then parted graciously.

The king told him that he will stay in touch, and to find him when he must.

The owl traveled on learning more, looking up and craving to soar.

He found another family, one of raccoons; they taught him the ways of stealth.

Next he found a murder; a flock of crows.

They taught him that before he would know it, he would die.

He thought and cried, entering existential crises.

But then he moved on, learning to cope. And soon he found bats that traveled in troupes.

They taught him how to listen.

He kept on moving and found some flies.

But they had nothing to offer, so he moved on to a gang of monkies.

They taught him how to sit and ponder, to think of space and what lies beyond.

They taught him of earth being a planet amongst many, that his life is rather small.

They taught him to look within.

“The whole universe exists inside. From enemies to friends and all.”

So he sat and closed his eyes, he looked past the greatest lies.

He saw the entire world and universe, and those that dwelled in.

He found every creature and beast; every item and object.

He learned all secrets and facts; all wisdom and knowledge.

With that he thanked the monkies, opened his wings and flew to the skies;

Realizing now that it was always inside.