Useless to struggle fruitless to fight
I am ensnared enmeshed trapped
like a blundering moth or greedy fly
caught in a web of great subtlety
beyond sight beyond touch
its fragile helical strands
binding me tighter than chains of steel.
A net of such strength and durability
should fill my dungeon snap tight
around my limbs my wrists my ankles
clank and groan when I try to move
proclaiming me a prisoner doomed
for the term of my natural life. Yet
these chains are so tiny
no-one seeing me could guess my fate.
Perhaps in my voice my eyes my gestures
they might catch a glimpse hear an echo
half see out of the corner of their eye
my prison door slowly closing. Others
more aware of the past
can compare my chains with those of others
they have known
sisters mothers grandmothers.
For the ties that bind are ties indeed
spun from that most durable thread
life itself DNA twisting rotating
replicating duplicating in my life
the life of others mothers
unto the seventh generation
and such is the power
and subtlety of this thread
that we rejoice and weep to see it ensnare
our daughters daughters daughters.