Spider Parable - Cynthia Poten

[Larry Robinson]

Spider Parable
 
Suspended from my ceiling on a single thread,
the spider became aware I planned to capture her.    
Not knowing I would carefully carry her 
to the garden, she scurried up her strand of silk,
winding it into a ball as she retreated, like the
Kogi of Columbia who pull in their rope bridge 
when they return from journeys in our world.
 
O yes, the Kogi know they must keep their world 
apart, safe from all who plunder Being, who divide
the very heart of Life into shacks and the gilded
habitations of the unaware, where slaver whip
echoes are silenced, where the fearful rumble of
collapsed mines, the din of mills, the cries of
the sick, the hungry, the wounded cannot intrude.
 
But the voices of Being are rising. In the wind and
the rain they rise, from the young and the old, in
classrooms, mobbed streets and meeting halls, in  
chapels where candles glow in a Mother icon’s eyes,
where stained-glass light is Sun’s blessing. O yes,
voices are rising around the world -- from walls to
bridges, the Song of the One and the All resounds,   
the ancient thread for binding us into Life’s circle.

	- Cynthia Poten