And what you plan to do,
Green plant that sit in room?

Where thinks could be your dreams?
Or do you even dream at all?
What sunsets could you see?
Or swimming shore above?

And question me your roots,
In dirt that act like boots:

Are tickled they like hell?
In brown and white soil?
Can itchy get your face?
Does water run too deep?

Now look at me your leaves,
Which rarely bend from tree:

What age could they recall?
Of passions, dreams, and all?

And what you plan to do,
Green plant that sit in room?

They cut down the trees and then urge the young to plant them again, about how life goes, as if age is just a number, and we no longer believe in power.

They cut down the trees, clear land,
make production, then shop spree for a vision and mission because life only once and needs to be enjoyed, wrapped in a paper bag and then thrown away and become a homeless person's sleeping mat in front of the overhang of shops.

If you end up in what feels like a wasteland,
Make positive change.
Sprinkle seeds of promise,
Grow some trees,
Plant lots of flowers,
Invite the melodious birds,
And awaken spring to the call of renewed hope.

Hussein Dekmak

Quinine is used as medicine
to treat malaria in humans,
and quinine was originally derived
from a species of plant
named Cinchona;

I wonder
haw many new medicines
can be discovered
in plants, animals, insects, bacteria and
in all the species
of living-beings
on this wonderful Creation
we call Earth?

I can sense you
in every sunflower-
in the scent of every petal,
the sweetness of the pollen
and the colour and light
you radiate.

Loving me is like
watering a sunflower
but without the sun

12:21 AM
9/8/21

Breath, soil; breath and drink and bask in warmth
Slowly walk along the sentence that extends
The year before the year, the frozen and thawed,
Fruitless but alive with another day's growth