Morning Creations

She wraps herself in
Silvered web
Knowing well the
Entanglements possible

Yet also delighted by
Its sheen, its gossamer lilt
The way the silken threads
So fine can be so strong

Wanting not to be
Trapped
Enrobed without motion
But instead merely to run
The filaments through her
Hands and marvel at the
Beauty and the lasting
Quality of their fairy texture

Balancing along this finest
Of lines
Gathering
Without the urge to own
Nor
To break free