Star Child

In a seemingly careless field of high weeds,
The child I
Came suddenly upon the
Black, unknowing, eight-pointed spider
    Strung tremblingly in space
Blank single eye
Staring sightless into my suddenly knowing eye —

Suddenly conscious that this spider,
By casting forth all that it had,
Became not imprisoner,
But imprisoned,
Fixed,
Emblazoned:

Eight-pointed child of light,
Immolated
In the design of God
And pointing at all eternity.