The Orchid Farmer

Reproduction

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They produce themselves in so many shapes and colors,

The orchid, it sprouts healthily wild, in extinct volcanoes,

Producing a new species each time, since the world began,

Each flower, with petals soft and varied, each different,

As if to point at the varied qualities of the genus of life.

Where it might say, life is bountiful and not so fragile,

A curiosity to its farmer, the singular serpent in the flesh,

Who must have wondered at his own productive nature,

Where they must all have appeared to him like his own,

Until it produced someone quite like himself in physique,

Then another, from his ribs, to give the man a companion.

They wouldn't heed the words of caution, of the farmer,

' Don't listen to the serpent ' he had warned, ' it lies,'

And yes it did, it told of the joys of youth in the flesh,

Of more than orchids....fish, birds, mammals, even human,

Till the farm was over-run and the orchids quietly withdrew,

The farmer today must be sitting in contemplation of these,

Of the fall of man and the knowledge that had begun hence.

Still, the orchids are beautiful, and each, so very different.

Reviews

[BlueJay]

This is one of the most beautiful poems I have read about the Orchid. I've read quite a lot, but this has to be a favourite of mine. The picture and the words mesh together so beautifully, and the poem is divine!