jumping spider watches me head tilts curiously seeing if my species knows how to be holy humble human or just harmful hurried hateful saves its precious silk not for war but for the winds carry them to another shore they coexist visiting protectors will wander, wonder won't waste will not weaponize would never wonder why will only weave a way new tapestries, a shrine to beckon and bow to death each night wavering, wounded web of the careful killing made from sense (a vibration, thrumming the web) not stolen and sought (a violation, torturing the innocent) then sacs carried on arms or back soldier's full of bullets, spider's full of babies, alive from the other side maybe those thousand spiderlings she dodges each rain drop to save are the stolen souls of Gaza, Sudan, Congo, and beyond returning home again this time with extra eyes as God's witness, Allah's allies... where they can shoot silk and show them how the soul's candle can never be put out. for they thread me back into meadow–stretched strands when I stray where they weave the wounded land back into an ecosystem again.
Jupiter in Cancer conjunct Sun (heart too big)
June 24, 2025