Owl

As you glide past my head,
I wonder...
What is it like,
To be an owl?
To have all the world,
Under your watchful eye?
To glide silently, a ghost?
To feel the wind,
That's seen a thousand things,
Under your wing?
To have eyes that work best in the dark?
To catch your prey before they are alerted to your presence?
To know the secrets of the forest?
To be forever mysterious?
To be free?

Al of these questions I mightn't be able to answer,
But I do not know whether I would want to know the answer,
Because then you wouldn't be the mystical hunter of the Dark.