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The Orchid

The poem of the journey an orchid takes and its relevance to our journey in finding Christ.

No recollection do my legs hold of this place,

My hope, it withers. My good trust losing its grace.

But wait a second, I hear a whisper falling out of place,

It promises to let light one day touch my hidden face.

"Let me out", I say, and shout out and I scream.

No one but Time speaks back to me in its gentle breeze,

"Only I can make alive your melodious dream."

I sit in my chair letting more legs grow out,

Darkness buried its head here and birthed me not so loud.

But wait, I feel a change coming! Oh yes, there it is:

I’m stretching up the pathway to my never-ending bliss.

Time was a friend who never bestowed me a kiss

But promised a past I’d no longer reminisce.

I’m reaching up higher, feeling led by the spirit

I’m in green, I’m in leaves. I can see, I can hear it.

My future has come and the bud is to flower.

I’m no longer a seed that sits still and that cowers.

I’ve been called to be born, to be named and admired,

To have colour and radiance, to be more than my hour.

One petal’s unfastened, and another, here it comes!

My eyes have been opened: the world speaks now in tongues.

My colour is white and my veins are of pink,

The world ever so lovely: dressed in detail, in ink.

Who is this man who takes care of me so?

Who is the one whose heart came long ago?

His hand was the one that helped me to grow,

His love the ever-so-polished painter of my soul.


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