CAPTURE/RAPTURE

I watched a spider spin her web with patience
And precision. The spinner spooled and time became
A suspended minim in infinity,
Unfathomable as counting grains of sand,
Or drops of water in all the oceans,
Or pondering the holy secret Trinity.

When at last she was done, the spider took
A rest right in the middle of her new home.
Rays from the early morning sun caught the filigree
Strands, and the intricate design was illuminated.
The tiniest movement of the web … a faint breeze,
A little sparrow alighting on the bough,
And there occurred a magical mystery.

A kaleidoscope of colour, and light; silk
And sun, and dew, in a captivating dance.
Enchanting, entrancing, beckoning, beguiling.
A little bug advancing to a rosebush nearby
Flies into the guy-ropes, causing the structure
To quiver and jerk. A desperate Tarantella,
Instant alert!

The spider awakes. The beetle is snarled,
Entangled. The web contracts and distorts
But it does not break. How courageous the fight!
Tortuous, ponderous travail, to no avail.
Eventually the beetle knows it is useless,
Accepts the inevitable … succumbs to his plight.

The spider is content.
She sleeps again,
And will dine at her leisure.

© Lynne Harris