Spiders' Wire

Spider’s Wire The light of the sun Rode down the strand. Photons riding a wire. Natural polymer, most grand. Slowly down the spider's web Reflections of the sun now ebb. Insect trap? Optical fiber? Why not both and call it even? Even a miracle can be analyzed. Weighed against "right." "Even Stephen." Can you judge a spider's wire? How useful is it? Will the wire reflect beauty? What good is it? Assumptions about the wire Create the reality of its doom. Not even a spider can change Its solitary gloom. The "rules of the game" can't Be understood on the other side. The other side of life, That enormous side, The side with everyone else But me. Can you "see" the rules of The Spider's Game? Can you sense the presence Of the spider's shame? No power over you! I'm a "sexy beast," you said. Never expecting it Our words told the story... Of our shadow side That part of our souls So dark and dreary. Did you blink a silent Invisible wink, As your brain somewhere safe, Zaps its reality into think? The spider's wire reflects. Yes. And it thinks and it remembers. It feels and it sorrows As the light becomes an ember. And the night Makes us remember The warmth of the touch Of the Light. As it's reflected through The prism of my soul, my wire; Stretched Across the forests of our lives.