(or 'What the Spider Saw') Spider sitting, thin-spinning in the plum-coloured corner Shadow, subtle angles - small orphan of Night He is top-hat velvet on eccentric silken tails Lordly in his Father's hall Roam past the Master's chamber like a roving eye Small fly is his, its vision shared All things possessed in this tiny realm Now oft-ignored curiosity is engaged Common footsteps give unusual ring He knows this is no ordinary enchantment And says "I'll Not object to this visit to my house" Settle See Oak door slides to misty choir of rust Carefully steps a small blue girl, a paper lantern silhouette Leads a boy made of cotton thread and string Shows him panelled walls, polished floor Beams like the door Pining for forests long gone Ancient wood - the contrast of fragility and strength Reason enough for her to smile This is a memory room Her mouth curves to relive days now past And Spider stares as every square of stone sings Throwing tongue unfamiliar one to another Crashing, shimmering - he knows not this shattering exaltation The 'sacred chord' adored, all notes are one Journey of discovery, such holy question A chorus in reply Slowly fades Like dew before the sun, prayer ends Gentle tick-tock as the small blue girl crosses soft-lit floor The pendulum boy in her hand swings Listen Overture gone, closed-door hush Another song taking root in grain Underfoot - the soft-shoe shine And somehow Spider sees a tree Spring, grow, die, instant blossom verse & He Who Sees All Turns back to His rough home Cutaway bed Where time is a circle