When the Owl Comes
On nights when the world holds its breath and the stars shimmer with quiet intention, an owl may
glide above your roof—silent, deliberate, unseen by most. It doesn’t cry out or seek your gaze.
It simply watches—calm, commanding—as if it remembers something you’ve forgotten. With wings
woven for silence and eyes tuned to truth, the owl arrives not by chance, but with purpose.
Across cultures and time, owls have been more than nocturnal hunters. They are keepers of secrets,
guardians between worlds, messengers of ancient wisdom.
Their gaze sees what others miss. Their presence signals a shift—an invitation to look beyond logic,
to listen to the parts of yourself you’ve silenced. When an owl lingers nearby, it may be asking you to pay attention.
In folklore, the owl bears hidden knowledge: intuition, transformation, and the quiet end of things.
Its sudden arrival might be a nudge—a truth long buried, a decision waiting to be made, or a change already underway.
The owl doesn’t force clarity—it invites it. Its gift is a question: What are you avoiding?
So next time you hear wings brush the night, or glimpse a shadow beneath the moon, pause. Let its
silence speak to yours. The owl doesn’t come to frighten, but to remind:
In the quiet, in the dark, in the stillest part of you, there is light.
And the owl knows exactly where to find it.
