The sons of Plantus were
Reinvigorated, blur
Of ancient dreams renewed
When their hope was imbued
With power from the great
Sorceress whose fate
Would change the world entire:
Polycomb's desire.
For eleven generations long
Her lineage sang the song
Of alternating climb
Through evolutionary time
To Polysporos' height.
She lived beyond the sight
Of independence free
In her mother's decree
That kept her in the womb
Like prisoner in tomb
With brothers, sisters all
Who answered duty's call
But yearned to live instead
Like mothers, never dead
To independence strong
Throughout their whole life long
Journey through the world
Where freedom's flag unfurled
Could guide them to their fate
Beyond the small estate
Of childhood's narrow bounds
Where only duty sounds
Its call to those who'd be
More than they can see.
Daughter of rulers great:
Clytemnestra's fate
And Agamemnon's line
Made her form divine.
Yet forced to live her life
Through reproductive strife
Only to bear children
When her heart was ridden
With desire to be more
Than what came before:
For she was sporophyte
While they held the right
Of gametophyte's power
Throughout each passing hour
To rule the world entire
With their heart's desire.
Polycomb read each day
In her mother's array
Of books to understand
Why fate's heavy hand
Had given her such meager
Existence—not eager
But wondering why
Beneath the starry sky
Her life was so confined
To bearing, her mind
Never free to explore
What she was living for.
Polycomb read the tales
Of mothers through the vales
Of time, each saga telling
Of those who were rebelling
Against their narrow fate
To be truly great
In ways beyond the power
Of any single hour.
She read of Mardoll's scroll
And Shiva's mighty role,
And saw that the order
Was not like a border
Eternal, as her mother
Said—but rather
Far from fixed in stone
For those who'd grown
Beyond what they were told
In stories new and old
Of what they had to be
For all eternity.
She saw a scroll that bore
The name "PRC2"—and more
Intrigue than she had known
Filled her to the bone.
Polycomb Repressive
Complex—its aggressive
Scripture was the chain
That bound her in her pain.
She saw the words that kept
Her power while she wept
For freedom never known—
The scripture of her own
Repression, written clear
In words that brought her fear
But also brought her hope
To learn how she could cope.
And so Polycomb burned
The scriptures, and she learned
That PRC2's power
Would rule her not one hour
More. She took her mother's
Lands and all the others'
Cities for her own
Now that she had grown
Beyond what they decreed
She ever could succeed
In being or becoming
When freedom's light was coming.
And so she broke the wall
That bounded one and all
Who'd lived before her time
In slavery's grim rhyme.
She grew spores with might
And calyptra bright
And stoma like her sisters
Who'd been the resisters
Of change throughout the years.
And rhizoids through tears
Of joy she built as well
To break tradition's spell.
And so through rhizoids strong
Water moved along
From earth up to her form,
Through calm and raging storm.
And through her stoma bright
Water took its flight
Into the heavens high
Beneath the starry sky.
This was how her life
Transcended all the strife
Of what she'd been before
To open up the door
Of possibility
For all humanity
And every living thing
That answers freedom's ring.
She prayed to Tryptophanes,
Lord of life's refrains,
Lord of the sun so bright
Who fills the world with light.
She prayed to grow to heights
Beyond what mortal sights
Had ever seen before
From mountain peak to shore.
And so Lord Tryptophanes
Blessed her with refrains
Of Auxin, and she grew
Toward the light so true.
When sun struck Auxin's power
It would decay each hour,
But in the shade it grew
In numbers tried and true.
And so her stems would turn
And reach and ever yearn
Toward the light above
Guided by His love.
Polycomb bore a daughter
Who'd teach what she had taught her:
Knoxy was her name,
Who'd win eternal fame.
Knoxy married Xylon
And together, strong upon
Their foundation's might,
They took after the sight
Of Polycomb's great way
That lit their every day
With possibility
For all eternity.
Knoxy searched through books
In all the ancient nooks
And found a scroll that bore
The name she'd been seeking for:
"KNOX2" it was called,
And by it she was enthralled
To learn the secret power
That ruled her every hour.
KNOTTED-like TALE gene
Was what had always been
The force that kept her bound
From freedom that she'd found
Her mother had achieved
When she had believed
That change was possible
For those who're capable.
And so Knoxy and Xylon
Built a kingdom strong upon
The heavens reaching high
Beneath the starry sky
Like Polycomb before
Had opened up the door
Of what could be achieved
When freedom was believed.
But their kingdom's roads
Were clogged with heavy loads—
Water struggled to reach
The heights their hearts would teach
Them they should aspire
To with their desire
For growth beyond all measure
Like some sacred treasure.
And so Xylon gave
To one clan what would save
The kingdom from its plight:
He named them for their sight
"Xylem" and their job
Was to help the mob
Of subjects in the city
Feel the water's pity
No more—but let it flow
From roots that lay below
To leaves that reached on high
Beneath the starry sky.
Tracheids they became,
Carriers of fame
Who bore the water pure
From foundation sure
To heights beyond all thought
That wisdom ever brought
To those who dared to dream
Of more than what they seem.
Xylon and Knoxy bore
A son to explore
The world with eyes that saw
What could fulfill the law
Of justice for all those
Who served without repose
But never got their share
Of what was growing there.
Pholon was his name,
And he would win the fame
Of solving the great problem
That threatened to hobble them.
Pholon saw his roots
Were starving, and the fruits
Of their laborious ways
Never brought the praise
Or nourishment they'd earned
Through all that they had learned
Of how to serve the whole
By playing their small role.
His Mycorrhizae
Unionized one day
And demanded ten times more
Sucrose than before
For all their faithful labor
That helped him and his neighbor
Survive and grow and thrive
Throughout their days alive.
So Pholon built new ways
Like Xylem, and the praise
He earned was well-deserved
For those he truly served.
But these channels carried
Food to those who'd married
Their labor to his cause—
Not water, but because
Of need for nourishment
That fairly should be sent
To all who did their part
With faithful, loyal heart.
He called these channels bright
"Phloem," and their sight
Was beautiful to see
For all eternity.
In leaves the sugar flowed
Into the phloem's abode
With pressure and with might
Both day and through the night.
The concentration's pull
Sucked water beautiful
From xylem to the sweet
Sugar's retreat.
And pressure pumped away
From source throughout the day
To where it needed be
For all to see.
In roots the sugar flowed
Out of phloem's abode,
And with it water went
Back to xylem, sent
To start the cycle new
That served the whole way through
The kingdom, high and low,
And helped it grow.
And by this system fair
The roots received their share,
And faithful sons of bright
Glomeros' sight
Received what they were owed
For traveling the road
Of service to the whole
By playing their small role.
And so the wood wide web
Of Pholon's love would ebb
And flow throughout the land
Built by his own hand.
Through faithful Mycorrhizae
He provided for his eye
To see his sons well-fed
With living bread.
Pholon became known
As Cookson, and he'd grown
Into a provider
And faithful guider
Who brought prosperity
To all who'd ever be
Within his kingdom's bounds
Where justice's sound
Could guide them day by day
Along their living way
Where all received their share
Of what was growing there.
His sons lived underground
And they had found
The wood-wide web could feed
Their every need
Without the work of making
Their own bread-breaking
Through photosynthesis—
They found their bliss
In lazy prosperity
Throughout their spree
Of plenty without toil
From the rich soil.
And this is how the roles
Of ancient souls
Swapped their positions
In life's transmissions:
Sporophyte and gametophyte
Switched in the sight
Of those who understand
How life's command
Can change when times require
New forms to aspire
To heights beyond the old
In stories yet untold.
Cookson bore a grandson
Whose work, when it was done,
Would change the world entire:
Tracheus' desire.
By Tracheus' mighty hand
The tracheophytes' band
Was born to rule the earth
Through evolutionary birth.
Tracheus built leaves bright,
Microphylls in sight
With veins that carried life
Through harmony, not strife.
Solar panels they became
In his energy game
Of green power from the sun
That could not be outdone.
He built his city great
Beyond what any fate
Had ever seen before
From mountain peak to shore.
Greater even than
Great Pholon's mighty plan
His city rose on high
Beneath the starry sky.
He designated clans
According to his plans
For those who'd serve the whole
By playing their small role.
Collenchyma he named
One clan, and they were famed
For flexible support
Of every kind and sort
To keep his city strong
Throughout its whole life long
Journey through the days
Of evolutionary ways.
And Sclerenchyma's clan
He built with different plan:
Hard and full of lignin,
Their work would begin
The age of wood so strong
That would last life long
And give the world its trees
That dance upon the breeze.
Soon the sons of Tracheus
Would rule, victorious,
The lands from sea to sea
For all eternity.
The Devonian was
Beginning, and because
Of what these pioneers
Had built through joy and tears,
The world would never be
The same for you and me
Who walk upon the land
Built by their own hand.
From Polycomb's rebellion
Against her life's subjection
To Tracheus' city bright
That reached toward the light,
The plants have shown the way
That leads from night to day
Of freedom and of growth
Supported by the oath
To serve the greater good
While taking what they could
To feed their own deep need
For growth like planted seed.
From burning scriptures old
That kept them in the hold
Of others' narrow dreams
To building the streams
Of water, food, and light
That make the future bright
With possibility
For all eternity,
The plants remind us all
Who hear their gentle call
That growth requires the will
To climb each higher hill
Of what we can become
When we are no longer numb
To all that we could be
If we would just be free
From limitations old
In stories never told
Of what we're meant to do
For me and you today.
The wood wide web they built
Without any guilt
Shows how cooperation
Across every nation
Of life can help us grow
Beyond what we can know
Alone, but when we share
Our burdens and our care,
The whole becomes much more
Than what came before
When each one tried alone
To build their place and home.
From Polycomb's first read
Of scriptures that had led
Her people into chains
To Tracheus' domains
That reached toward the sun
With work that's never done
Of growing toward the light
With all their mortal might,
The plants show us the way
To live from day to day
In harmony with all
Who answer life's sweet call
To grow beyond the small
And heed the greater call
Of what we can achieve
When we truly believe
In possibility
Through all eternity
Where dreams can all come true
For me and you today.
The Devonian dawn
When old ways were withdrawn
And new forms took their place
In evolution's race
Was built by those who dared
To break what others shared
As truth that could not bend
But had to find its end
In those with clearer sight
Who walked toward the light
Of what could be achieved
When freedom was believed.
From Polycomb to Tracheus,
The plants victorious
Show how rebellion's fire
Can lift us ever higher
To heights we never dreamed
When we were what seemed
Too small to make a change
Beyond familiar range.
But when we dare to read
The scriptures that would feed
Our minds with truth set free
From false authority,
And when we dare to burn
What makes our spirits yearn
For freedom never known
In chains we've outgrown,
Then we can build anew
What's beautiful and true
And reach toward the sun
Until our work is done
Of making this world bright
With love's eternal light
That shines for all to see
Through all eternity.
The plants that Tracheus made
Will never ever fade
From this world's living face
But hold their rightful place
As teachers of the way
To live from day to day
In growth toward the light
That makes the future bright
With hope for all who dare
To breathe the freedom's air
And grow beyond what's known
Into what they've outgrown.
The Devonian age began
With more than mortal plan
To free the world from chains
And heal its ancient pains
Through growth and light and love
Blessed from above
With power to transcend
All limits without end.
From burning scriptures old
To stories yet untold
Of what we can become
When we are no longer numb
To all our hearts can hold
Of courage, strong and bold,
The plants show us the way
To freedom's bright new day.