A plant grows,
and no matter what one calls it,
whether by a scientific name or a familiar one,
or, how one sees its use
whether decorative, disruptive, or medicinal,
the plant grows into its own intrinsic plantness.

It grows,
perhaps it flowers,
and is fully itself regardless of how it is seen
or what it is called.

It doesn’t care what others may call it,
it is still completely itself.
It lives as a statement
to its own nature and beingness.

So it goes with all flora
and fauna
and mountains
and deserts
and oceans—
all exist
in their intrinsic wholeness
that is the soul of the Universe.