A noiseless, patient spider,
I mark’d, where, on a little promontory, it stood, isolated;
Mark’d how, to explore the vacant, vast surrounding,
It launch’d forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself;
Ever unreeling them-ever tirelessly speeding them.
And you, O my Soul, where you stand,
Surrounded, surrounded, in measureless oceans of space,
Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing,-seeking the spheres, to connect them;
Till the bridge you will need, be form’d-till the ductile anchor hold;
Till the gossamer thread you fling, catch somewhere, O my Soul.
(Walt Whitman)
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Based on Topics: Soul Poems, Space Poems, Medicine & Medical PoemsBased on Keywords: isolated, ductile, tirelessly, filament, unreeling, d-till, them-ever, throwing-seeking