September 11, 2003

From the Vault of the Heavens: September 11 Meditation

It is the season of floating spiders. And it is this that I will see in my mind's eye on this crippled day. I saw them first, years ago, by accident or by fate. And I will be looking for them again today and every clear September day, and imagine them souls set adrift, rising, following the invisible bridge back, to their source. You can see them too, if you are still, and look up, and can see the light just so. Look for them. Especially today.

A noiseless patient spider, I mark'd where on a little promontory it stood isoloated, Mark'd how to explore the vacant vast surrounding, It launche'd forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself, Ever unreeling them, ever tirelessly speeding them. And you O my soul where you stand, Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space, Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing, seeking the spheres to connect them, Till the bridge you will need be form'd, till the ductle anchor hold, Till the gossamer thread you fling catch somewhere, O my soul.

A Noiseless Patient Spider
Walt Wittman, Leaves of Grass

Posted by fred1st at September 11, 2003 07:03 AM | TrackBack
Comments

Beautiful passage.

Posted by: Da Goddess at September 12, 2003 04:09 AM

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