Orchids in The San Francisco Conservatory of Flowers

The orchids do not primp nor do they fard
With translucent sunlight's creamy glare
That streams down from the ceiling to bombard
Them in the sauna of the humid air.

Beyond indifferent to their vibrant colors
They are a void to feeling and to thought
Or a sense of their own tropic splendors
Which Nature for gross practicality wrought.

It's only man who can respond to beauty
And see in inert matter its potential.
But is this simply our brain's chemistry
Or another quality that's external?

Perhaps it's both in some unknown construction.
The orchids would be beautiful if they
Were growing deep inside the jungle hidden
Where no man had ever come their way.

Santiago del Dardano Turann

Archived 06/07/2010