circles

A Noiseless Patient Spider
By Walt Whitman

A noiseless, patient spider,
I markd, where, on a little promontory, it stood, isolated;
Markd how, to explore the vacant, vast surrounding,
It launchd forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself;
Ever unreeling themever 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 formdtill the ductile anchor hold;
Till the gossamer thread you fling, catch somewhere, O my Soul.