A rosette close to the damp and dark ground
Its flat green stem spreads wide and round
The red-lipped traps with small hairs on wait
To snap shut swiftly on an insect’s fate.
Venus Flytrap stand rooted, yet it knows
When to remain open and when to close
It never chases any wandering prey
Instead, simply waits and watches the day.
Its crimson chambers are tempting to call
While hairy, tiny teeth surround them all
It cannot meander, it cannot race
But it draws its strength beneath sun’s grace.
When a small insect or an arachnid returns
The insectivore’s silent trap at once discerns
The hinged leaves instantly respond with speed
And its hunger finds what roots may need.
It does not take life through anger or hate
Nor does it strike out of mere greed or spite
It simply employs what the nature gave
To strive just to keep its small world alive.
Like a patient leaf stays open, still and wide
To trap the careless prey deep inside
For human souls too, a lesson here is plain
Restraint and waiting bring the greatest gain.
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