In the fade of dusk, a shadow slight in size, like the pitch of a scream, toils at its craft, multi-jointed spindles, meticulous intricate and delicate, spinning an aria of filament and feelings

I consider the fear that has driven spikes through my nerves, the minuscule stature of my lifelong terror, and I circle to the central flaw, so much finality in the unjustified, a seed of irrational ignorance implanted at beholding 8 hydraulic legs mystifying in creep and extraordinary in creation

It was when I acknowledged it’s existence was no less significant than mine, on that fateful morning with a wolf spider and first light, that I gave pause to study to wonder to honour the plenty of its being, and to grow towards peace of mind within our shared environment

As my 42nd year commences, so has the arachnid prominence and my meditation on spider resilience and existence

The tensile strength of a single spider silk, of the beauty in gossamer Kevlar, how it wears the finery of moisture and frost, how it phantoms in daylight, a wave of prism in the peripheral, how it stands out in fog and illumines beneath the moon

A full circle in eight points and design, a dalliance with the linear of life the intimacy with the transmutation of death and the sacred symmetry with the boundlessness of existence, and to be accepting of nature’s laws without a hint of reservation

This is a year to further nurture my journey of enlightenment with the inclusion of arachnid philosophy: in my creating my manifesting my being

E. A. O'Connell. May 17, 2021.