The Shock of Webs

Fine silver webs form from the spider's body,

black and divine

wherever nature calls.

Never in greed, but always in hunger.

The arachnid waits for its next meal to strike upon the lines it's woven,

and when it does—

the shock of impact travels through the lines, vibrating its long legs,

and sending its body into a natural state of work.

It wraps its victim, as one swaddles a child too tight,

until they have accepted their fate.

The poet can stretch their words in a similar manner,

crisp with each line

whenever inspiration calls.

Never in greed, but always in hunger.

The poet waits for an idea to strike,

and when it does—

the shock of impact travels on waves from brain to keyboard,

sending their body into a natural state of work.

They write their poem, over and over again,

until they have accepted their fate

as a simple, natural creature.