An Owlish Gaze: A Poem About Being Blind To What’s In Front of You

I sit silently, eyes wide open

Observing everything being done and said.

I turn my head around;

Paying careless attention to every creature

And their ideas about me.

Every creature smaller than me

Regards me as a ruthless predator to be feared.

Those bigger than me

Consider me to be a watchful guardian;

Hooting to warn of other predators.

Nestled inside my hollowed nest

I listen intently to humans,

Arguing as they walk past me.

They carry devices to sight me

While debating the significance of doing so.

One calls the endeavour a fool’s errand;

Another believes sighting me means the advent

Of immense wisdom in life.

A third calls me unlucky; another a lucky sign.

Multiplicity lies in my very nature.

While looking for me they pass me by obliviously.

Ironically they discuss the virtue of alertness in sighting me.

Their thoughts bore me, their actions rouse my ire.

I give a disdainful hoot

And fly off.

Priyale Chandra, 23, is a freelance journalist and a student of Convergent Journalism at AJK MCRC, Jamia Millia Islamia. She tweets at @PriyaleChandra.