The Orchid

you are the orchid
not needing much

a place to hang on to
by your roots
a bit of light to get you
through the day

so delicate, fragile
the finest blown
glass...transparent...
too good to touch
yet sturdy, hardy, forever.

the miracle of you pierces me
with wonder and I am both
sad and fulfilled like a
minstrel man grateful for a job
in a time where there is no
sense of humor or wonder

the job, to watch over you,
be near and shed light as you grow.
effortless reaching, unaware of existence
being...
simple...
beautiful