My own home

This little owl woke one foggy morning and did not know where he was.

“Whoo-whoo, where am I?”

“H-o-m-e! H-o-m-e! H-o-m-e!”
hooted the foghorn out at sea.

But the little owl did not know
where he was in the tall grasses.

The chickadee sang, “Chick-a-
dee,”and the quail called,
“Bob-white, bob-white.”

The bees buzzing quietly in the
sea roses buzzed, “Home, home,
home,” and the blossoms
nodded, “Home,” and the
foghorn hooted, “H-o-m-e!
H-o-m-e!”

The little owl whispered,
“What is home?”

“Home is the pink smell of sea roses,” bumbled the bees,
slowly buzzing, “Buzzz, buzzz, buzzz.”

The little owl flew a flap and hopped hup-hup
in under the sea roses.

A spider lay sleeping in the middle of her web,
and the little owl wondered aloud,
“What is home?”

“The center,” whispered the spider,
waking, riding slowly on her silk.

“Buzzz, buzzz,” buzzed the bees,
“buzzz,” and the blossoms nodded,
“Home,” and the foghorn hooted,
“H-o-m-e!” and the little owl
did not know where he was.

He hopped hup-hup up onto the rocks. Below he heard a
mother seal playing with her pups, humming quietly,
“Home, home.”

The little owl called out to the sea, “What is home?”

“Me and the sea,” sang the mother seal.
“Sea rolling
bell tolling
flipper flapping
waves lapping,”
barked the little seals.

“The center,” whispered the spider.
“Buzzz, buzzz,” buzzed the bees,
“buzzz,” and the blossoms nodded,
“Home,” and the foghorn hooted,
“H-o-m-e!” and the little owl
did not know where he was.

He hopped hup-hup-hup down through
the wild sea Peas.

A butterfly fluttered by. Now a little breeze began to blow,
and the fog began to lift away.

The little owl saw two brown snails digging in the sand.

“What is home?” he asked.

“Our home is always with us,” said the snails.

“With-you — with-you — with-you,”
echoed the loon overhead.

“With-you,” called the little owl up
to the sky, “what is home?”

“God with you,” sang the loon.

“All about you,” whispered the spider.

“Like the quiet
of the morning,”
sang the swallow,
swooping and singing,
“swoop-low,
swoop-low.”

“God with me in my flutter,” said the butterfly.

“In my swoop,” sang the swallow.

“In our quack-quack-quacking,” quacked the eider ducks.

“In our lap-lap-lapping,” lapped the waves.

“God with me in my hup-hup-hupping,” said the little owl.
He hopped hup-hup back into the tall grasses,
and he hooted, “whooo-whooo, I am home.”

In the quiet of the morning, the sun shone brightly.
The little owl saw his own mother beside him.
He hopped hup-hup in under her open wing.

“Little owl,” said his mother, “you are home.”

“God with me in my hup-hup-hup,” sang the little owl,
and he hopped,
and he hupped and he hooted,
“Whoooo-whoooo-whoooo,
I am home.”

January 1, 2003
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