NIGHT RIDERS

I felt a little touch

And thought it was a hair.
Brushed away that tiny touch

Carried by the vagrant air.

The Moon was shining brightly

As I sat upon my deck,
And cast enough light for me to see

What was there.

Often, I could see a tiny little glint,
Floating on the current,

smaller than a speck of lint.

I watched it sink, then soar,

In sight, then not at all.
Trailing a tiny filament,

Was it really there at all?

T’was a tiny spider,

No bigger than a speck.
Compared to a snowflake,

T’was scarcely a fleck.

The light reflected from it,

As it floated without care,
And from the trailing silk

That carried it through the air.

How could something so tiny,

Something I couldn’t see,
Produce such a trail,

That I so obviously could see?

So I started thinking,

Comparing it to me.
And I started wondering

About what I might yet be.

Think I’ll keep on trying

To be all that I can be,
Hoping others will see my trail,

But not the struggling me.

That they won’t see my weakness

And all of my travail,
Yet seeing the tracks I’ve left,

Still deem to follow my trail.
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