There are webs in my garden,
delicately guy-wired from twigs to drainpipe,
easily captured in my two-dimensional photo,
the orb-weaver sitting proudly
at the lacy center, visible to all.
There are other webs in my garden,
closer to the ground, untidy,
capturing debris and spent flowers,
the only regularity of form
the tiny tunnel where the web-weaver hungers.
There is a web in my home,
more like the complexity
the web-weaver spins,
where I seek soul food
through clickable links.
I’m held online, freed from space and time,
in Quaker meeting with Friends
in London, LA, Camarillo, New Orleans,
worshiping together in their mornings,
afternoons or evenings.
Linked in the intimate force-field of Spirit,
ecstatic and drawn together,
we are nourished by the silence,
by the droplets shining in our web,
the Light caught in the words of a Friend.
Ann Fuller has been a member of Santa Monica Meeting (PacYM) for about ten years. She finds that sometimes in worship, a whole poem or a scrap of a poem comes right out of the Light, even during worship on Zoom. Being outdoors, being with Friends and other living beings, connects everything for her.