Walt Whitman
New York / United States
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A Noiseless Patient Spider

Rating: 3.4
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.
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COMMENTS
Adeeb Alfateh 23 July 2019
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. beautiful poem great 10+++++++++++++++++
2 0 Reply
Ratnakar Mandlik 07 July 2019
Minute observation of the poet regarding the silent and consistent efforts of a spider to form it's net and it's comparison with his soul's unending attempts to discover it's connects have made the poem a spirituality based and has given it deep meaning.
0 1 Reply
Konab Ghumman 30 June 2019
And you, O my Soul, where you stand, Surrounded, surrounded, in measureless oceans of space, Ceaselessly musing, venturing, great poem
0 1 Reply
jonny 08 March 2019
spider! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
2 2 Reply
Naani tetau 26 June 2018
This is a good poem for love thank you so much music time now
2 0 Reply
Britte Ninad 11 June 2018
No venom in chelicerae! can't inject with venom! Eight legs are crawling silently google eyes! silence of fabrication breezy of south window swinging spider web sleepless eyes are in drowsiness drizzling coolness touches there everything a banned home! home of wayfarer since the birth of my sense haunted words of writing are on the wall everything is near of me- a dissected sense of insanity noiseless mad!
1 3 Reply
Mahtab Bangalee 31 May 2018
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.
3 2 Reply
Gangadharan Nair Pulingat 10 December 2017
So beautiful writings of this poem which narrates the minute details of world tragic moments.
1 3 Reply
Sylvaonyema Uba 11 February 2017
Well communicated! Sylva
2 4 Reply
Savita Tyagi 02 November 2014
Read this poem some time back. it left the impression that I can't forget. Just superb. Once I saw a spider in its web. The atmosphere was as such that I ended up writing that impression.
12 23 Reply

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