Against the French doors
become windows, after a
dormant year, the orchid
puts up a bloom stalk above
the Italian pottery.

In slowest time lapse
sequence appear the tiny
nodules that have become
buds and over months,

they swell to the size of
fat hazelnuts. Waiting is
everything: to water or
to dry out, to turn or to

prop the stalk against
its own pendulous arc.
Daily: anticipation.
Silent lesson in the art
of orchid Zen.