Web of being

We are caught in a web.

This web, whose strands are transparent,
Emerges into the visible realm
When the strands are serrated with dew,
Whose drops are moments.

We run along strands,
Leaving bits of ourselves,
Changing coordinates,
Exchanging air and oxides,
Becoming something
Entirely other
At each step,
Within each
Drop-moment.

Soon, concentricity
And circumference
Have expanded
Beyond being
Or shrunk
To mere nothingness,

And as we look back
From our last
Visible point,
Only then
Do we learn
That we
And the web
Were one.

--Mr. Gobley