When I walk a path of flowering plum
or hyacinths, or pass a field
of blue-eyed grass or scarlet fireweed,
I smile and am glad.
But, when I’m hiking through the shade
of a mountain wood near a snow-fed creek
and find a solitary Calypso orchid,
my heart is overwhelmed by joy.
A single object of delight, demands
the eye enfold, examine, hold it fast.
And in that careful look my soul
rejoices in the varied hues of pink,
the slender stamen’s gentle curve,
the tiny yellow specks
of pollen fluff.