The owl was calling last night
Somebody’s name echoed through the dark still forest
I listened for awhile to hear him again
But only silence rang through my ears
When the owl called
My heart shrank with fear
Praying it was not my name
But another’s that he called
Most don’t hear the owl’s call
Until it is their time
Until it is their name
Echoing through the tall dark trees
Those who believe
Say that the owl doesn’t know
Whose name he calls
Only he who bears the name knows
There is no mistaking
When your name is called
We always hear it
Then, it is our time to go
Poetic Alchemist 
Gautami: Well send that ole owl over here!!! LOL
In Hinduism, if an owl visits near your house, it brings prosperity.
Aurora: Thanks. Good to hear from you. Hope things are well with you. This owl story poem is Native American. Take care.
Thanks Dan. It was NOT my name either.
An effective analogy. I recently submitted a poem with the owl reference. To my surprise, the editor had not heard of it before. Good to see it explored thoroughly here.
Haven’t heard it yet.