Silent Spinner

posted in: Poetry 0

A fisher casting out his nets

I expand my home

Though small it is

My corner of the world

Weaving here I wait

Patiently I prey

Calmly in the dark

Begin my day

While others still lay sleeping

Diligent I am

Awaiting the arrival of another

My prayer in the wind

Slim yet sturdy structure

I weave, reaching lines into the dark

Then I feel the tingle

A tremble in my lines

A gift has made its way into my work

Faithfully I’ll treasure

This present signed with blood

Drink ye all

And I will drain the cup