Weaving a dance within the melodic chaos of what we call music
is as if you ask
papers to rustle in synch with the deathly disposition of pollution.
It's easy to wreck this world with beauty
if one is able to entwine more trees across the strung cracks
of breaking twigs coated with spiders and
dead carcasses of honey bees battered to the ground.
Notions of spiders being artists are tossed with
disgust with the basis of a body
inked with obsidian tresses.
People forget that spiders create
webs painting the illusion of a dew dropped sky.
And bees fumble with honey
gorged within the melting ecstasy of sweetness.
Twigs.....
may not seem capable of more than snapping in dying echoes,
but they are a part of nature.
Isn't nature considered
beautiful?