A spider, so patient and noiseless,
Standing alone on its little promontory,
Launching forth filaments into the vast unknown,
Ever unreeling, ever tirelessly speeding them.
And I, O my Soul, where do I stand?
Surrounded by measureless oceans of space,
Ceaselessly musing, venturing, seeking the spheres,
Trying to connect them, to bridge the gap.
Till the bridge I need is formed,
Till the ductile anchor holds strong,
Till the gossamer thread I fling, catches somewhere,
O my Soul, I search and search, to find my place.
Like the patient spider, I weave and connect,
Exploring the vacant, vast surroundings,
I reach out, trying to make sense of it all,
Hoping to find my purpose, my connection.
The threads may seem fragile, but they are resilient,
They hold the potential to form a bridge,
A bridge that will guide me to where I belong,
A bridge that will lead me to my destination.
So, I will continue to throw and venture,
I will keep seeking and musing,
Till the gossamer thread I fling catches somewhere,
O my Soul, I will continue my search. ("Resilient Threads") by Courtney Weaver Jr.
- Author: gray0328 ( Offline)
- Published: January 7th, 2024 05:44
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 2
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.