The art of the spider is patience
Its venom is held in reserve
For when the web breaks unbidden
Or if the prey works up the nerve
To resist that which nature intended
To swerve from the course of its fate
The spider’s unseen strength
Is the will to sit and silently wait
Gene G. McLaughlin 2022
Darkness is not blindness
Adjustment is slow
Things around you
Take shape
Patience the only tool
Until the world has form again
If there is no middle ground
Then the way is lost
It is hard to see when beaten down
Through the smoke
Know middle ground is there
In the haze
Right behind you
Just obscured
We can speak in absolutes
Hold volatile ideas near and dear
Speak of revolution
Ignoring the tears
We don’t know ourselves
Through the swirl
We cannot see ourselves
With it engulfing us
Sometimes it is better
To move slowly
Through the fog
Feeling that which is around us
Which we cannot see
Waiting until the fog dissipates
Instead of burning it off
Because that which we burn
We sometimes value most
Gene G. McLaughlin 2013
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