Beneath the moon’s soft silver glow,
In shadows deep where whispers flow,
The spiders weave their intricate art,
A tapestry from heart to heart.
Their legs like wands in twilight’s gleam,
Craft silken dreams in silent scheme,
Each thread a tale of timeless grace,
A secret world in hidden space.
The night is still, the air so thin,
As webs of wonder pull us in,
To realms where shadows softly creep,
And ancient secrets gently seep.
Oh, spiders of the midnight hour,
With wisdom spun from nature’s power,
Teach us the art of silent might,
And dance with us into the night.