Weaving my Days {a #poem}

by | Aug 6, 2013 | Poetry | 7 comments

If I was inside
not here–away–
I’d miss the rickety sounding
chip, chip, chip
of the cautious squirrel
feasting on my deck.

I’d be still and safe
and sure of my surroundings
but could never feel
this lacy, lingering, gentle breeze
lilting along the leaves of the trees.

My eyes would rest on the all too familiar
white walls and picture frames
instead of viewing
the silvery gossamered, billowy
waves of the web
from this everyday spider,

a dot in the middle of
his wavy-walled home
clinging, sure of his boundaries,
never doubting for a moment
he’s exactly


  1. This is beautiful. Love the lacy breeze and sense of contentment.

  2. Cheryl, this is my 'small place' for poetry, a place I generated way back when (a year and a half ago)when I found an avenue for the 'other words' that Jesus gives me.Thanks for reading!

  3. How? How have I missed this blog, altogether? Or maybe I've been here and my brain is just doing that thing it does these days?I'm feeling the breeze here too, at my keyboard.

  4. So true… there's so much to be seen outside.

  5. I see God more easily outside….maybe because I'm looking?

  6. cloistering ourselves away may sometimes feel safer, surer, but how much we would miss of the natural world… and I like that subtle comparison I read in the final lines – for me, makes the whole very personal

  7. think i like it outside a bit more…instead of safe inside the walls….


I'd love to hear your thoughts

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