I wonder if the spider, with the new awesome web I saw in the garden this morning, is like me when I am sewing. I’m wondering if he’s back in his special hiding place under that curled leaf, examining his web and thinking “Oh drat, look at that. I have a hitch, a bloody mistake, on that far corner. And what’s more it’s too late, I’ve gone too far. I can’t fix it now.”
And so he continues on, but he’s so painfully aware of the flaw in his existence, the misappropriated thread—an irksome thing that digs deep into his mind.
But still, what’s done is done and he must go on living with the realization he could have done better. It can’t be remedied now cause he knows full well that the much-depleted bolt of silk remaining in his pocket-pouch is only enough to shrink-wrap the sustenance he will need to survive. And that one ligature involves a thread that is too essential to structural integrity to remedy with a patch or a bit of darning. And furthermore, if he could patch it, would it then become a web of deceit?
And so he doesn’t have the luxury of starting over with lessons learned and expert application of that learning.
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11 comments:
Next time I see a spider web...I will take a closer look. Or maybe I shouldn't and just assume the spider did a perfect job.,as I've always done. No, I won't look for flaws...because I just might find some and then the mighty spider will look less mighty...and that just won't do.
Only the seamstress knows where she pinched a pleat and I'm sure only the spider knows where the web is insecure. No, I don't want to know. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I bet Mona Lisa has flaws.
The perfection of the spider's web,
as far as I can see,
Is sadly missed by human eye in all it's majesty.
But weavers of these webs don't care what's caught by human eye;
As long as all their labors snare a beetle or a fly. ~Joy
~Joy
I know what you mean about being irked by a mistake you make while sewing - or knitting or crocheting or painting or anything creative we do with an eye to someone else judging it. As for learning from their "mistakes," I wonder if the spider considers any blip a mistake so long as the web, as Joy points out, gets the job done?
Love this one! I'll think twice the next time I see a web.
matty, as always, you have the optimistic view. I don't mean to be critical or find fault. It's just that I tend to personify that as part of God's creation, beasts and bugs feel how I feel. Part of this is my attempt to understand them and the other part (okay, I admit it) to find sympathy for my own difficulties. And so, from thence came the thoughts that I wrote in this blog.
But you are very right. I know where I have a pinch in my sewing, but I don't point it out to those who wish to examine the work.
joy, I couldn't feel more honored. Your poem is so humorous and utterly delightful and I shall take it to the garden and chant it to my spider. I know he'll love it as much as I do.
P.S. By the way joy, could you maybe write something just as delightful for the skirt I constructed with a wee tiny flawed tuck in the waistband?
pauline, all of the previous comments have echoed this thought and yes, I do think you're right. His web is too purposeful to really care about anything more than how adequately it serves its purpose. My skirt on the other hand is not that purposeful -- or, is it?
Thanks for visiting jeanne. I guess after this discussion we will all have a different view of spiderwebs, but I still will remain as annoyed as always, when the camoflaged ones end up pasted across my face, when I am walking in the woods. It wouldn't be so bad, easy enough to wipe off, but I always remain convinced that when that happens I might have a live spider (or a zillion tiny offspring) hiding in my hair. Ooooh!
Yep.....
You've made yourself a garment
constructed by your hand.
You stitched and hemmed it perfectly, and everything looked grand.
But at your final viewing, you found an extra tuck;
Right within the waistband is where the tuck got stuck.
But who of us would notice this tiny little error?
Just you would sweet Roberta....the sewer and the wearer. ~Joy
joy, anyone who can write poetry that flows like the poetry you write must go through life dancing to an ongoing rhythm in their head.
That wee poem is perfect and when I put on my skirt it will now be perfect. That little bit of word rhythm gives it purpose enough to ignore all flaws, in the same way your poem healed the spider's web.
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