Have you breathed
a blue orchid
as the world is born again?

As the young sun
sweeps away the dust of dreams
and darkness.

Sculpted from the shared clay of time
and chance and sunrises.
Finely chiseled to be precisely as the inexplicable intended.

Vulnerable, fragile, a phenomenon of patience.

I dive into the curled
waves of soft petals.
Into the eye of the orchid

where lies a universe in observable proportions,
accidently stunning.
An unintentional existence

waiting to watch
the heavens burst and set ablaze
distant clouds, faraway strangers.

It is quite lovely
not to have to wander far
to find a sunrise…

Is it wrong to wish for roots,
for tender, blue petals? Is it wrong to
forfeit flesh, and pulse, and anger for simplicity?

To be without laughter, hope,
or tears. Without knowing the difference
between self and all else…

Love this life sincerely,
like a blue orchid,
or have you already left the world behind?