i am the orchid.
i am the withered, dry stem that most assume dead.
i lay dormant without demand and require the least of your attention.
i am still with observation of light and energy.
i am vulnerably exposed, with open roots and heart.
i am settled in wood chips and rocks.
i reach into the air around you while you dream.
i have smooth leaves, green buds, and silk petals to press upon you.
i am the orchid.
i am not dead.
i am here to surprise you, to remind you that what appears gone is not.
please, ice. please, wait.
