The Spiders' Waltz

The Spiders' Waltz

A pair of them

Five not eight

Living on 88
Chasing passion and perfection

Tones and time

Crawling up and down

Over and under

Racing, tumbling

Nearly tripping leg over leg

Then still, frozen

but for the slightest tremor

Suddenly, they leap

Landing lightly before they are off again

From corner to corner

Making angles, creating patterns

Weaving intricacies of color from black and white

Now the leaps have become insistent

Aggressive in their pursuit

Determined to extract the cries of their prey

After their conquest

They creep back

Slowly

Quietly

Leg over leg

A final sprawling stretch

Then stillness.

The fading light dancing

In the gossamer strands

Of their creation.

Winter

WINTER

Tunneling through

the cold biting

stinging

numbing

the grey

is endless

heavy and wet

yet trudging on

Digging out

bit by icy bit

a race against

the tiredness

the paralyzing cold

Can the end be seen

no, it is still

white out 

The Chase

Through the meadow in the night

I creep, cautiously testing for

The errant leaf, the careless twig

Eschewing the well-trodden path

In pursuit of…

Achieving calluses, I think wryly

Though I know that isn’t my aim

It is out here, amid the darkness that I come

To find the flickers

To chase the embers

That are so tantalizingly near

Beckoning like a siren’s song

The journey is a myriad of emotions

This pursuit- my internal odyssey

And if I attain my desires- what then

Will there be nirvana- eternal nothingness?

Will I be consumed- like Icarus?

Or will it be an endless labyrinth

With the end only being the beginning

It isn’t clear, however,

My feet do not falter, save

On those stray rocks and twigs

The chase is what consumes me. 

Lead and follow

Dancing

Interchange

Give and take

Lead and follow

And follow and lead

Float and sway

Body and spirit

Rhythm and movement

Independent, together

One but two

But one but more

A room full

Weaving in and out

Life on display

Microcosm

Autumn

Autumn

A solitary leaf

Clinging

Pondering

To let go

Fly

Drift

Lose

Fall

Or to hang on

Safe

Connected

Waning

Lifeless

Remembrances fly past

Growth

Lushness

Purpose

Color

Now at the end

Deciding

If she falls with the others

Will she re-capture?

Lost community

But they lie there

Dead

She hangs

Alone

Breath

Creating

Forming meaning

Are we

                                                                                               Isolated 

                                                    Independent 

Solitude

Within the process

Going within

Deep
Unexplored place

Twisting 

Grappling and wrestling

                       Searching and exploring

No assistance can tell 

In the end

The path

The words

The sounds

Yet…

Transformation occurs

We let go

Suddenly

It is ours no longer

                        A floating balloon

                                       Far beyond our grasp

Do intentions count?

In some hidden space

Is there a record kept

Or are the rights signed over?

The deed                           transferred

                                                     Is it both

A conversation

                                                 A dance

When done with skill

Balance

Life

Equilibrium within ebb and flow

Creation 

                      Ruach over the waters

Reserved

There is a string

A cord that binds

There is a land

Just a corner

That is reserved,

Protected

A piece of soul

There is a part of self

Sectioned off

In this land,

This place

Gentle terrain

Protective hedges

Warm springs that burst to overflowing

No markers

No maps

No lines

One tug

And I’m undone.