Frenchman's Bay, Maine

Frenchman's Bay, Maine

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

A Spider Poem


A noiseless, patient spider,
I mark'd, where, on a little promontory, it stood, isolated;
Mark'd how, to explore the vacant, vast surrounding,
It launch'd forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself;
Ever unreeling them--ever tirelessly speeding them.

And you, O my Soul, where you stand,
Surrounded, surrounded, in measureless oceans of space,
Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing,--seeking the spheres, to
connect them;
Till the bridge you will need, be form'd--till the ductile anchor
hold;
Till the gossamer thread you fling, catch somewhere, O my Soul.

--Walt Whitman

3 comments:

Sam Gamgee said...

*Like*

Go ahead and pretend to be surprised. ;)

Africakid said...

Ha ha, I should have known!
Especially with the combination of spiders and poetry.

Angela said...

Beautiful & just what I needed to read TODAY!!!