Paul on the Adriatic
There stood by me this night the angel of God
I have no fear of storms since I heard His voice—
my Accuser crying out of the sun.
While I am chained in the shivering hold,
the others cower and bleat to Baal.
But no fury can last. Light finds a way—
it streams through cracks in the throttled planks,
and illuminates the silk rigging
of a small brown spider which, huddled,
waits so patiently for the first frail fly.