In the moonlit shadows, they quietly weave,
Threads of silver, a delicate reprieve.
Silent artisans of the darkened skies,
Spinning tales in webs that mesmerize.

With patient precision, they craft their art,
A tapestry of life, a world apart.
Invisible yet powerful, their threads entwine,
An unseen beauty, a hidden sign.

Beneath the stars, in the still of night,
They dance in shadows, out of sight.
Guardians of secrets, keepers of dreams,
In their fragile webs, nothing is as it seems.

Oh, silent weavers, with your gentle touch,
You remind us, in this world, there’s so much
To be seen in the quiet, in the unseen,
In the spaces between, where magic has been.