Kneel beside the little pond,
see the web extend.
The grey spider will suffer you.
She has seen you walk close by
along the path beside the
bush called bridal wreath.
How many times she saw
her web destroyed
as you walked by.
How many times she spun again.
Usually she hides when you come
to work soil and water
expressing your human ideas,
you lofty thoughts of scope and design
that never really come to be.
She rests in the quiet perfection
of volunteer cherry,
black raspberry bowing over.
Today you see her.
Now, as you kneel in the dirt,
only beginning to realize earth,
she who has always known
has waited for you to know –
she will spin the most delicate of all.
Long silk from cane to branch
to smallest weed.
And you will watch,
and you will love it.
You will wait
for the web
to extend.
May 2006
A Thorley Poet 