I saw a spider on a web today

How graceful it danced upon the razors edge;

Little legs magically finding correct placement;

I pondered about its industrious nature

As it danced from one side to the other

Laying and spinning the thinnest wispy line

How many works of art has this widow made;

She does not ask the question

Shall it be form or function

She just creates

The brutality of this masters creation was not lost on me;

She does not create art knowing there is an audience;

It is created for hope of sustenance

The beauty is a byproduct

As I weighed the intricacies of the spiders being;

A fly came buzzing by

And became in ensnared in the tapestry

I looked away from the inevitable

As she lunged with lightning speed and grace;

The time for contemplations came to an end;

But it left me with a startling realization that I did not plan to take away;

How much different would society be

If we could look passed the things we may view as distasteful;

To see the beauty that is always there.