Hurtling

 It wasn't the easiest drive:

Rain drops and car-shaking wind

More traffic than sometimes.

The suspense of the building storm,

But the spider was still casually

Crawling up the inside of my windshield.

And I wondered if she could sense

The thinness of the glass

Separating her nonchalance

From her hurtling through space.

My thoughts didn't impede her acrobatics.

Her nimble feet tapped and assessed each step.

I tried to focus on the road:

Wind gusts and big trucks and a long day at work,

But I felt like a different kind of spider

Hurtling through space

With an atmospheric "windshield"

Around my rock planet,

And mostly oblivious to the complex glory

Beyond each mundane struggle.

All at once, the spider dropped.

Her graceful limbs poised, silky rappelling apparatus reliable 

When the windshield got too slick.

She didn't panic.

And you, my dear, are part of my thread:

Connection to broader reality

When my struggle gets too intense.

I let the spider stay

And wished her well.