Fragile, even to the faintest whisper,
a humble home, vacant in the breeze;
visible in early even sunlight
‘twixt the walnut and the maple trees;
constructed from a blueprint ever-ancient
with materials one cannot know,1
it captures yet the poet’s fascination
underneath the canopy to go.
Do not fail me now, vocabulary!
The arachnid’s home I must explain!
What if I start with how it catches moisture
when is come the fog or gentle rain?
Or how about the measurements within it,
numerous dimensions, so exact?
Of all that I know of this blessed world,
‘tis one of most captivating fact!
Yea, vocabulary, try to capture verbiage
fitting of this miracle of life.
To some, security…fascination…
to others, absolutely horrid strife!
But today, the subject of my journal
as I am taken by the beauty of
the web out in the early morning garden,
tended by my Father God above.
How often have you passed this home and ignored it?
Have you ever stopped and marvelled at the wonder of it?
Creator God creating...