Swaying in your silken church,

Dark mind in the wind,

What do you know

Of the fears and the fates

Of the insects swarming below?



Will arachnid ethics

Fall from the sky

Like a web,

Like a gossamer godspell?



In silent spinning

Will we sit cold and cunning

In systematic cobweb cities?



Or will we drink

Of venom and virtue,

Paralyzed, pondering

And prayerful?