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
repairs

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
abruptly
on the wind


Rachel Westfall
May 19, 2008

2 comments:

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.

*Shine-On*

RachelW said...

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