Delicate strands, beaded
Prismed silence in the early light
The spider spins a pattern of eternity
Woven upon the exhaust and grinding flashing by
A whisper footstep by Nature
Upon the blasphemy of modernity
Human progress is measured
By destruction and gain
No matter how fast we may
Believe we conquer Nature,
With our pavement, concrete and linear paths
Nature’s progress is by adaptation
The eternal wisdom of Paternity
Allowing selfish children to pull, nourish and learn,
Destroying Her raw beauty
Only to silently receive the waste
Slowly, beginning to weave and reclaim
What was originally Hers
The spider sways into the breeze,
A diplomat of Nature
He feels the Great Beyond
The definition with out meaning…