Efflorescence (The Orchid) Poem by Bea Hayden

Reverberating a melancholy hush
As if the world lay in a period of
pausation that excludes myself,
she sits endearingly before me.

In my state of obscure reverie,
an impetuous feeling begins to consume
my entire being.
The green exhibition of nyctinasty exhibits
a jarring, impenetrable hindrance that
simultaneously infuriates and amazes me.

I caress the bud, begging for
efflorescence,
but she remains remarkably indifferent
demonstrating an alluring dance that I
have not been summoned to; one that I
cannot perform in.

I am awakened -more than ever- as the
reds begin to unfurl,
a cascading parade of color,
marching directly into detriment as they
etiolate swiftly, a frutition portraying my
haste.
I'm left alone, trembling, as it all crumbles away.