Welcome to Owl of the Desert
Who am I?
I grew up in the foothills of Sacramento, California, on a farm where we raised horses and sheep.
I spent my childhood panning for gold in a little stream that crossed our property (never found any), whacking at bull thistles taller than I was with my stick, climbing trees (three giant oaks we named Faith, Hope and Charity), and biking along country roads to my friend's house to play a newfangled thing called a "Nintendo" while eating Hot Pockets.
I have lived in Utah (where I now reside), Israel and France. I am married with five children (see, raising animals all those years ago has come in handy).
One of my favorite things about being a father is surprising my kids by doing something totally unexpected: like when I woke them up at midnight to see a blood wolf moon and performed a dance on the freezing front lawn in my pajamas (as they repeatedly told me to hush before the neighbors woke).
Most magical things come unexpectedly.
I am an attorney who cares about good government, both civil and religious.
Life rarely travels as the crow flies. We don't know what the future brings. But I have made a pact with my children that in the year 2061 (assuming I am still alive) we shall reunite from wherever we find ourselves around the globe, to witness Halley's Comet's return.
It is good to have something to look forward to.
Why did I create Owl of the Desert?
I created Owl of the Desert as a flare in the night sky to other Owls. While owls often hunt alone, and are solitary creatures, we are not alone.
When Moses turned forty, he slew an Egyptian and fled for his life. Less dramatically, when I turned forty, I decided to share some of my poetry.
Poetry seemed the gentlest way to say some hard things.
As you read my poems, you may discern the thread that stitches them together. I hope it will spark a conversation about how we can become better ― if we choose love.
If we choose freedom.
Well, we have forty years before 2061 when Halley's Comet returns, so we might as well make the most of it. Remember, it was forty years between the time Moses killed the Egyptian to when he faced Pharaoh and the burning bush (and then, of course, another forty years after that in the wilderness).
We had better get ready.
I am like an owl of the desert.
I watch, and am as a sparrow
alone upon the house top.
But thou, O Lord, shalt arise
and have mercy upon Zion:
for the time to favour her,
yea, the set time is come.
Psalms 102:6-7, 13
Owls are not afraid of the dark