Throughout the night
moonlight swept through long dark trees
standing deathly still
waiting for morning’s quiet return
Near the creek
high above the forest bed
a familiar barred owl calls out
claiming stray moonbeams his prey
Ghost-like, shadows hover
between trees and beyond
to places figured lost
save their fortuitous lingering
Somewhere, in the spaces between
what’s known and what can never be found
the night slips into my soul, and
so shall I also wait for morning’s light
Poetic Alchemist 
definitely my favourite of the three don
beautiful description and atmosphere
thank you
Paul: Thanks. It is a special time. I’m sorry you can’t take advantage of it like you used to. God’s healing blessings to you.
Aurora: Thanks. That it is.
Wow, love the ethereal feel to this one!
Nicely evocative of that predawn time. When healthy I was usually up then, either writing or sometimes out for a run. Feels like everything is waiting…
Thanks Floots and Polona. Floots, it is a mood poem indeed. Polona, me too!
i feel like that most of the winter đŸ™‚
beautiful
superb
great sense of place and mood
Thanks Dan. Glad you enjoyed it.
Nice final lines! Nice poem!