I pulled the tiny mantis from the spider web:
barely a fingernail of stillness and fight.
The strands, delicate and deadly as time,
wrapped forelegs as if in actual prayer.
It’s not pleading, and I’m not asking
for recognition as I remove the silk
And shred the spider’s web.
We build whole faiths on this foundation,
That something larger than us can disentangle
us from reality. When nothing comes
to remove us from dis-ease, our hope suspends
us till we can’t move. But I can act, not as god
but as antibody, I can act because I’m of this world,
enough death within me to save a life
and save what would be killed without killing
what would kill. I don’t claim to be fair
as I leave it on the porch rail to finish freeing itself.
Whole faiths have fallen on less.
Some things spread, and some things don’t.
We light the match to burn it. Our mistake
was believing we were loved before we felt
the love, then believe we need to earn it.