There's a spider I see when I come and I go.
I say "bye" when I leave and "hello" when I'm home.
This tiny creature has a place in my heart.
Is it odd? I have to think about that part.
Why do I care when others recoil?
I see so much beauty when I watch her toil.
She builds a home with hardly anything.
Then holds it together by the thinnest of string.
When it gets broken, she builds it again.
As often as it takes, she doesn't give in.
This weaver of a beautiful intricate world.
Driven and smart from the moment she uncurled.
Some people don't care if she gets squished.
And never see how amazing she is.
But, nature tells her she's good enough.
And keeps her heart beautifully tough.
Oh, I get it. Now I see.
The spider is me.
About the Creator
Nicole Caldwell
I passionately share poetry of hope in our times.
Not blind hope, but the kind that burns no matter how strong the storm.
Through story and art, we burn brightly together.
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More stories from Nicole Caldwell and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Golden Valley
The difference between light and dark could be as quick and simple as a flip of a switch, the drawing of a curtain, the opening of one’s eyes. It could be more gradual like the slow adjustment of the diaphragm on a microscope, the turn of a planet on its axis, the growing light as you approach the end of a tunnel. A flicker in the dark, a steady glow in the distance, a flash in the night sky.
By Alyssa Nicolea day ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
Good story
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