Oh great orb weaver
Who lives among tall plants

Where you spin
A complex circular web
The size of a large platter
Complete with a hub
And non-sticky spokes
Upon which you walk,
While sticky cross lines
Ensnare your daily meals, 
I revere you. 

I study the webs
You and all of your sisters create,
But observe holes
In some areas
Where large insects 
May have escaped,
Your web so constructed 
That they don't break 
The entire structure
During their struggle
To freedom.
And other sections
That remind me
Of the Cat's Cradle String Game
We used to play as kids. 

Most nights,
As if on cue, 
You consume 
The entire silk dish, 
Snacking on tidbits
Caught in the wheel
And then build 
A fresh web
To start
A new day. 

Really though, 
It's the bigger insects
You prefer,
And much like
E.B. White's famed Charlotte,
You inscribe 
A daily message
Down the center
Of your creation. 

It's upon this
Zig-zaggy stabilimentum, 
An ultraviolet runway
Of multiple threads
Perhaps intended
to provide you stability,
Or as a prey attractor,
Or a warning to birds
Not to fly through, 
That you hang in suspension
Waiting for the 
Dinner bell to ring. 

What I realize
While stalking 
The neighbor's field,
Is that when a large insect,
Such as a grasshopper,
Dragonfly,
Or caterpillar
Gets caught in your web,
It takes you
Two or three days
Or more,
First injecting and paralyzing
with venom,
Then enwrapping with silk,
Before crushing the body
And liquifying the victim
With digestive juices
So it forms 
A neat little package
Resembling a cocoon. 
And storing it
For later consumption. 

Despite eight eyes,
I'm told you have
Poor vision,
But make up for this lack
With hairy legs
That detect the arrival 
Of a meal
Perhaps signaling 
Sound and smell,
And certainly vibrations.
I'm afforded a look
At your pedipalps, 
Those two short,
Hairy appendages,
Sticking out from your head,
That also work
Like sensory organs. 

You may appear
Big and scary,
Your egg-shaped abdomen
Covered with asymmetrical marks
Upon the carapace,
Much like a turtle's shell,
And you may be
A carnivore,
But I celebrate you
Because I know
You are beneficial
In a garden or field
Such as this,
Since you control
The insect population,
Including some pests. 
You also pollinate plants,
Recycle dead animals
(Well, they may be dead
Because you killed them,
But still . . .),
And serve as a food source 
for others. 

Oh great orb weaver,
Argiope aurantia, 
Or more commonly, 
Black and Yellow Garden Spider, 
Thank you for affording me
Numerous views
Of you and your sisters
So that I might gain
A better understanding
Of your daily habits.