The Spider

The spider told me to write.

She was dazzling in her iridescence amid the carefully crafted web. The web was like none I have ever seen. It was woven in such a fashion as to protect the spider from intruders. The result was the capture of would-be predators for lunch or dinner.

She laughed as she told me to write.

“Weave your tales,” she spoke to me. “You will inspire and engage the masses in stories of truth, survival, and grace.”

I replied, ”I have little grace, and I am not a writer. I am an artist, and my truth has been blurred by the constant barrage of lies and truths that belong to others. My truth is lost, and I am still searching.”

A moment later she spoke once more, “Spin your tales as I have spun my web. This will protect you from your would-be assassins and help you to voice your very own truth.”

Following a night of restful sleep, I put down my brush and picked up a quill. My words on the paper were strange, alien to my nature, even though in my heart I felt strangely at peace. As I laid the words across the page, they began to come faster, as if through me, from a place beyond. I could not stop.

I had no plan. I knew not where my tale would go, but it didn’t stop coming through me. My usual need for control subsided to the trust I was finding in this great consciousness streaming through me. I believed in its ability to provide the words I lacked. My tale was brief, and looking back I could not ascertain it’s origin.

The day after I returned to the place of the spider. She was no where to be found although her web remained. I felt an unusually great amount of sadness. I wanted to share with her the words that had spilled forth from my quill. I was searching for approval. I wanted her to tell me more, to guide me in my journey, but it could not be.

I continue to write. I find both peace and power in the process. My truth radiates through my pages, and still I cannot share it. My words are my web of protection, my sanctuary from the chatter of humanity, my resting place, my hope.

One day I will be gone and my web of tales will be all that remains.

May they aid you in your journey as the spider aided me.