A Silken Web

That first piece of silken web
delicately, finely
woven from there to here
and back again.

Swaying softly in the breeze
hardly seen
it didn’t look like
it could hold a thing.

In those moments
it could have been broken
easily, quickly
walked through
with only a passing
hand waving over a face
to clear away some minor
hair thin thread.

Quickly, more quickly
than one might imagine
a silken thread was woven
down from the
wispy swaying one
woven by the memory
we created
just us two
eating dinner
that first night
together.

Another thread spun
and my knees went weak
when you wound
your fingers in my hair
reaching out to
give me our first kiss;
perhaps my favorite ever.

Weaving more
holding my hand
talking all night
and nearly every day
sending pictures
checking in
emails and phone calls
threads weaving
down and up
going to and back
whispering sweetly
good morning
and good night.

Camping and biking
eating and laughing
learning and sharing
and curling up in the
web of your arms
safely comforting me
filling your need
to protect.

Hours of conversations
miles of thread
the road we traveled
back and forth
to be together
connecting us
and building something
not so easy to brush aside,
something that tangled
in my hair
through my life
tightly winding around my heart.

I knew well the weakest point
in that beautiful silken web
but I leaned back
in the safety of what
we’d already woven
and trusted we’d
spin our way here, too,
reinforcing together
like we’d already done
with the rest of our web.

But my careless spider
you chose to crawl there
out on that tenuous thread
without asking me
telling me,
giving me warning
so I could back away
speak up,
flee safely
if that was my need.

And, by chance
or by choice,
you clipped
that fragile silkiness
holding us there.

I felt it begin to collapse
and then I saw you
scramble away
resiliently running
leaving me stuck there,
swaying in the wind
those beautiful silken threads
whipping, spinning,
unwinding from my heart
slipping up and tangling
around my throat, my face,
choking out my light
my innocence, my hope,
the web we’d woven
from there to back here.

As I tumbled towards the ground,
through the leaves
and the dew
I noticed I wasn’t dying
I noticed this wasn’t my end
I noticed that I had instead
resiliently
begun to weave
a first piece of
my own silken web.

It may be swaying softly
in the breeze for now,
looking like it
can’t hold a thing.

But quickly,
more quickly than
you can imagine,
it will have silken threads
woven with memories
I create
on my new web
going from here
to anywhere I want
and back again.

~ cj 2012.06.11