A spider drifted down to meet my gaze,
her silken thread a trembling, silver line.
She paused as if to read my quiet ways,
and chose my open palm as though by sign.

Another circled softly through the air,
her tiny steps like questions seeking ground.
Their gentle presence moved with patient care,
a whispered rhythm neither lost nor sound.

How strange that small companions teach us more
than all the heavy lessons we rehearse;
that trust arrives in moments we ignore,
and kindness weaves its own unspoken verse.

They rested in my hand, so light and true;
and left me changed in ways I never knew.