Intrinsic Purpose and Meaning

There is sun in the anchorite’s cell
This winter solstice in the desert,
As wind rattles the prayer flags and chimes.
The girls are off to the Mormon Ward
To find out what that much church is like.
A spider spins silk in the corner
And it glints a little in the sun.
Up until recently, the voices
Heard in one life were few. Now, they’re none.