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.
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