Dimly silhouetted and made shadow by the burning sun
I see it bound and writhing: a prisoner
Twisting and knotting itself in the spider’s web, so very nearly done
With its struggle
Against the fragile silver lace which wraps it
To a world of futile dancing battles with what the catcher knit
To chance upon
A false step. I am rooted to the ground knowing the result yet enchanted
As the sun’s rays float on all sides. Don’t forget
To move.
I can only watch the fated insect in its cotton tomb.
Desperate sunshine
Lives to watch it fight, gagged in its cocoon.
The patchwork pattern, ornate in glowing day,
Shivers
Its sinews against the combat,
The grim scene of tragedy reflects in my eyes, my stolen eyes
Wrestling to free themselves,
Be polite.
While inside me, beyond the light, the war echoes.
Because I am the shimmering web of myself woven
By what’s real
To choke and hold the roaring creature, begging, knowing
Where it should be and unreal in my binding cords of fear
Which risk abandoning their weakened hold, striving not to feel -
Fails
Feels everything.
I run out of threads as I am spider to myself and I steal
My world. It all exists and the sunlight dances
Around my inward silver thread.
Taut.
Battle hard or cease but it knows you’ll strive
To break the web
Or not.
The spider is aware, the sun is smiling unrealized and bright
On the fly in the window pane trapped within itself,
Brimming energy
Unbreakable chains.
Time.
The wings wound with iron silver - everything churning in stillness -
The web barely trembles
But the world shakes.
Published author of two novels, a novella and an anthology. Singer, songwriter. Actor, director and filmaker. Vlogger for StoryDJ TV. 
