The Owl's Call

In early days she took his arm

as life began upon the farm

 and often in the twilight's charm,

 they heard the owl call.

There is no pleasure on this earth

that's greater than the joy of birth.

Each life is precious, for its worth

the pain you must befall.

So each year, as the family grew

hard times were plenty, good times few,

but through them all they both knew

the treasure of it all.

And the sand flowed through the glass.

Yes, life was full of love and charm

as each child grew upon the farm.

They were taught well, and spared from harm.

Each one grew strong and tall.

He was so strong in mind and will,

yet sometimes when the night was still

he'd feel that he could not fulfill

the dreams that he'd recall.

Yet no one then would ever guess

that God had just begun his test,

He didn't give them time to rest.

Life wasn't fair at all.

So often when they felt the pain

they found a way to ease the strain,

and listened to the sweet refrain.

They heard the owl call.

And twenty years had passed.

Still as he cried at what he found,

she wept inside, without a sound,

the night when their whole world burned down.

She just endured it all.

And still our God demanded more

as children were called off to war,

but faith was stronger, as I'm sure,

they heard the owl call.

There's so much pain one must deny.

It does no good to ask Him why

when sometimes God let's children die.

It does no good at all.

Forty years had come to pass.

Some days bring sunshine, some days rain,

since he was ridden of the pain,

now she alone hears the refrain,

her faith won't let her fall.

My memory reaches out to find

a gentler time, a space divine

when life was cherished in my mind,

but I didn't hear at all.

Still when I close my eyes a while,

I often sense her quiet style,

and then I see her gentle smile.

I hear the owl call.

Gone fifty years, alas.