the spider

Just a tiny little creature
With odd furry features
Long legs that step  so softly

She dances through her home-making
With each sure movement
She, though young,
Creates as a master seamstress

Each line she checks for strength,
Softness, and exact placement
This is what she was born to do
A labor of love

She  feels that flutter deep, deep inside. 
Life fighting to grow.
Its hunger for ascending to the next level
Already impatient with the wait

She continues onward,
knowing the time will be here soon 
In, out, over, under,
Across, around, she backtracks


Its taken her so long to finish
She walks back to see this home she's made
The dew has left a present of crystals
For the ones yet to come

The sun rising to the occasion,
Is sending a warm gift of light
There is still more she must prepare
But for now she will rest

The children must wait a bit more
She gazes, surveys, her masterpiece
Tomorrow, tomorrow she will finish
Its a good work, she smiles

She raises her head in gratitude for the wonderful gifts
As sleep pulls her into glorious dreams,
Dreams of the tomorrows
Yet to come