This is the kind of gentle, quiet beauty that sends chills
starting in my bones and spreading through my skin cells.
"Because I am in awe of her silk-spun funnel like a gossamer tent
cascading over a green metal trowel."
How can we not marvel at the magnificence
contained in a garden glove?
As well as the human who notices
and shares such a splendid description
for the rest of us hurrying folks who
might miss the wonder?
I want to be like the spider...
"gathering raindrops and sweeping away
winged seeds after a storm."
Whatever the human equivalent of this might be.
Recognizing how briefly I am here
and how swiftly I will be gone.
Namaste'
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