Sunrise and Spider Webs by Gary Harkins

Sunrise and Spider Webs

by Gary Harkins

I gaze from Eden’s window east and nod– spiders are ballooning, leaving home 

Floating threads shine, drawing out lines– connecting the oaks, the pines, and me

Gossamer trails flying free on sunlit beams in a gentle morning breeze silk weavings in a gallery of trees, woven by spider lifelines crossing

But am I crossing any lines in me, as I write and breathe these foreign phrases

That write back breathing me– caught in their web, I ebb on aerial tides 

Sink inside– seeking to hide– hiding to seek, sending heart to a solid state savior   

Not prayers for forgiveness or favors, no fruit looms for my labor 

Silicon Jesus please save me– some guilty sins for later

When listening ears disappear, I will still hear– no eyes to read or believe

I still see what I see, I missed– feel what has found me buried spirit deep 

In wounded rhyme visions, blown by silent whispers behind the dark night wind

That lifts my lines along to the next tree– verse twinkled up to long dead stars 

For writing the dusty elements of style for me– insight out words are never free 

I bleed– more than red ink, for not speaking what I think, first third eye to blink 

A sentence of Hemlock drink is much too grave for me, so I flee to another dream

Where letters light up walls unseen, small spaces between, where I can walk my own way 

Can say, every shield constructs a cage, to keep my brother’s keeper away– no passion play 

No Abel to slay, just the genesis of soft feelings that flow out through these hard hands 

Hopelessly holding on to lost hourglass sand, here I stand– cold stone staring beyond the east 

While Cain from Nod stares back at me– so hard to see, or be seen 

Through spider webs and crossing lines 

How everything shines– at sunrise