Porcelain Owls
A porcelain family of
owls
Mother, father and little daughter
Or could that be little brother?
So hard to sex or hear laughter
From these three so clay still
And looking, sad, pensive, wise
Forever waiting in wisdom
A terrible burden of seeing the unknown
Knowing all that is unknowable
The long twisting DNA ladder of fate
That we climb taking the bait
Always sure that this strand of the spider's web
Is the one that leads from this samsara web
While we climb, fuss and worry and ache
That family of owls hoot, hunt and wait.