Speech of the flower


When no other voice was

spoken or heard I listened

to the speech of the flower,

the delicate petals of the blue

orchid so shyly speaking to

me in the quick wind, open

to let in the golden aura of

the sky, the joy at its center

I could hear above the water,

and the blue orchid waved

to me as if it had seen me

before. My fingers trembled,

so afraid to touch it, and I

paused with a stillness in my

soul. Gracefully, in the clear

deep pool of palpable light, I

graze every curve, let the blue

orchid brim over with its own

wellspring of life.


By Bobbi Sinha-Morey


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