Circle breaks to line
Line links into circle,
Making you and me,
And every other thing.
After all, a long line, might loop around,
And recurrent polarity, might push time.
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I’m grateful I was once an eager country kitty,
Prancing in swaying fields, woods and flowers,
Cackling with twitters and chatting little critters,
Watching over bugs and splashing beside frogs.
And I’m grateful they shared many stories,
Because their tales taught me to listen well,
Allowing me speak in numerous languages,
By base tones beneath our tweaked words.
And so, I hear you, little spider,
Twanging by tangling in threads,
Singing along a spindle network,
Patterning your speedy weaving.
But I'm not a delicate crawler of many eyes,
I'm a big kitty cat out stalking with my pride,
And I don't purposefully break spider webs,
I just run in far fields looking at cosmic ends.
Yet, it was because I listened for all the other creatures,
That I am the way I am, and see distances far beyond me,
Because they all sang tune about our deeper connections,
Just as the star filled cosmos speaks its language of infinity.
That's why I don't reactively hiss at every snake that slithers near - but if threatened, I know to hiss-roar warning that my reflexes are swifter than an overextending lunge.
And when a dog comes running at me, I don’t turn to run away - I stand my ground steady, ready to show I can swat my massive paws at anything charging at me.
And it’s also why I don't get overwhelmed entangled by a mesh of dainty spider webs – I know my claws are sharp enough to snip threads to allow my soft fur move on.
But don’t fear me, little spider,
I may strut proudly into webs,
But I also feel the netted pull,
And while I may snap at finery,
I don’t squish all spiders whole.
I just keep trekking in far fields,
With my eye gazing at cosmos,
Cause that just what I do most.
And surely, all us country creatures know:
"A cat prides the far fields,
A snake sleeps for snacks,
A dog follows within packs,
And a spider silks netwebs."
A selfish person always encourages you to be as grandly determined as them,
And a cocaine abuser is always pushing those fine white lines to try make friends.
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