Under the green foliage of the plant, the place poets go to dream, she knew it was time to leave the madness of the age behind them.
As a small plant she has wondered if she would ever grow, yet nature has its quiet way of encouraging these things. And though it was slow, as growing always is, there came a day when she realised that her days of being small were quite over. It was time to stand tall, to take up her space, to provide the shelter such a giant can.
The plant was the miracle of nature writ large into the natural arena, from tiny seed to a giant of root, stem, foliage and petal. She spread her harms wide as if offering to shelter us from the extremes of weather, to keep us safe no matter what came.
The plant stretched upward with nascent leaves, always growing, always making her green platforms in the air.
The plant grew as if she knew she was God's gift to the earth, born to make the oxygen others needed to breathe.
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