Just reflections while reading a Ludlum book and glancing at the statue my wife made me haul all over Rome.

PIETA

Mother Mary, help me.
Is there a place in this world anymore for peace?
Even a place in my soul?
Just a small cobwebbed corner?
I must have missed it
When I was cleaning up.

I’ve dusted and vacuumed.
Vacuum is a good word
For the empty spaces in my brain
And dusting I try
But there are cobwebs

Nooks and crannies
Niches where only the spiders
Are brave enough to go
And leave their gossamer trails

Spiders spin smaller webs when you clean them.
Am I cleaning or just clearing space.
Am I opening my mind
Or emptying an empty echo chamber
So scrubbed that that no spider
Would ever dare to lace its lattice