By Hamzat Waris Gbolahan

From the root, That drinks deep in darkness, That drinks deep in darkness, 

That drinks deep in darkness, 

Fingers gripping stone and soil, 

A life takes hold, unseen.Through the phloem, 

Through the phloem, 

Sweetness travels like whispered secrets, 

Sugar-thick and golden, 

Feeding what will bloom.

Via the xylem, 

Water climbs against its nature, 

A river flowing upward,

 Defying gravity’s pull.

In the stem, 

Green columns bear the weight of sky, 

Bending but not breaking, 

A scaffold for the reaching.

Oh, the leaves! 

Catching light like open hands, 

Chlorophyll turning sun to sustenance, 

The green machinery of breath.

In the flower, 

Color unfolds without apology, 

Petals soft as skin, 

Promising seed and continuation.

From roots that anchor deep, 

To phloem, xylem, stem, 

Leaves and flowers stretching upward, 

Life surges through each vein.

But even roots grow brittle, 

Phloem slows its golden current, 

The xylem’s river stutters, stops, 

And the stem bows low.

The leaves curl inward, 

Chlorophyll retreating into yellow, brown,

Petals drop like shed skin, 

Until the soil reclaims its own.

Losing strength cell by cell, 

They release their hold, 

And the space where the plant stood,

Remembers nothing.