In the quiet of the midnight hour,
Where shadows dance with gentle grace,
Owls take flight with mystic power,
Guardians of the moonlit space.

With eyes like lanterns in the dark,
They pierce the veil of night so deep,
Silent wings leave not a mark,
As through the forest glades they sweep.

Perched upon the ancient trees,
They listen to the whispers low,
Every rustle in the breeze,
A tale of secrets only owls know.

Their hoots echo through the vale,
A haunting song of wisdom’s might,
Owls, the keepers of the trail,
In the endless dance of night.