Monday, May 19, 2008

there are no horses here

we are fragile, we humans

our emotions
spun thin round us, a delicate task
ever seeking balance and making

your web and mine, both strong,
but so easily disturbed

what can
we do but shelter
the swallows, the spiders
the ants in a futile attempt to
ward off death?

spin me a world, a universe
a place where our strands

cross, connecting

the empty space inside you to the one
I hold in me

then we may feast
on the dark clear waters of
our making

our backs arched
strongly, the imagined sounds
of fleet-footed ones sliding past us
on the wind

Rachel Westfall
May 19, 2008


Mike-G said...

We (humans) are but a strand in the web of life!
We humans did NOT weave the web of life!

Rachel, Lovely Rachel; another interesting poem.


RachelW said...

Hey you! Isn't it past your bedtime? ;)