A poem for Hedwig.

Moonlight on white wings,
Shadows over water,
Dark air through feathers sing,
Nighttime's silver daughter.

To destinations unknown,
With notes for others made,
Across many lands she has flown,
To wherever she is bade.

We know not from whence she came,
Or what destiny she will seek,
But her master's fate is fame,
His outlook often bleak.

And in his darkest hour,
When all is lost that's fair,
We hope and pray with power,
That always she'll be there.

Spirit of the night,
In you a hero wins,
Fly the path of right,
Moonlight on white wings.

Finite Incantatem