A spider patient and silent ...
A spider patient and silent,
saw in the small hill that was
alone, I saw
to explore the vast empty space surrounding
,
launched one after another, filaments,
filaments, filaments of itself.
And you, my soul! where you are, surrounded
, secluded
in immeasurable oceans of space,
musing, venturing, arrojándote,
constantly looking for areas
to connect, store
until the bridge precise
till the ductile anchor is grasped,
until the web that you emit
garment somewhere, O my soul. Walt Whitman
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