Watching a spider in the night
weaving a web, it appears made of light.
Camera focused on the weaver,
the background blurs
and it is okay
for the weaver is the focus here.
I speak to her and I wonder
what is it like to weave again tonight
what you wove last night?
I wonder does she get upset when she returns each night
and finds what she had woven the night before has vanished
and she must begin again?
Each night I watch the pattern she creates,
similar and yet each night
a little different
than the night before.
I began to reflect on my life
and sought to understand the way I create
and live my life.
How many times have I become angry or upset
because I had to do again what I
thought was done?
I watch the spider night after night
slowly and patiently weaving her home for the night.
Her web captures light, food and all she appears to need.
She weaves her web and when she is finished
she sits and waits, trusting and knowing,
or so it seems to me,
that what she seeks shall indeed come to her.
She weaves beautiful and intricate webs,
appearing so fragile and yet so strong.
I study her night after night
and visit her in the early morning
before she retreats for the day,
and await her return in the night.
If I wove my web of life
as focused as she weaves her web,
if I tended it each day
as she tended hers each night,
if I wove it again
or anger that I had already done that
why must I do it yet again?
what kind of life would I weave?
If I knew as certainly as she appears to know
that what I wove would provide all I seek…
I wonder what kind of life
would I know?
Sister spider, once so greatly feared by me
now honored, respected, celebrated and honored.
Watching you night after night
weave your beautiful and intricate web
I am in awe of you.
Sharon L. Dvorak