I marvel at my ease observing a spear of summer grass

Maroš Grego

posted on 24 Dec 2021
I marvel at my ease observing a spear of summer grass
A candid sunlight reflects on its texture
Veins running through in parallel
Xylem pumping water from down below
And phloem sharing sugars in return
I lean to observe the intricacy
I can only discern so so much with the resolution of my eyesight
A glimpse of the cuticle and below
Where the invisible chloroplasts let themselves be known
By the vivid green colour they cast
But for them, the matter is the light they capture
Harvesting its brilliance
Turning it into life juice
Supplied by tiny mitochondria
Supported by Golgi bodies and vacuoles
Taking their part in one unit of the work
In the tissue that appears uniform to me

But among them are meristematic cells
That can divide and become two of one and supply new ones
And adjust themselves to what is needed where they are
Which is determined by endless streams and configurations of proteins
Assembled in ribosomes from ammino acids
Using special message molecules sent from the nucleus
Where there is the nucleic acid, an ultimate sanctuary
A shrine where all of the messages are written, but in advance
Even in the seedling
In a way, all of the information of this grass and this leaf part of it
Is inside, is there
Right in the center of each of the multitude of cells
Building up this complex
Trasforming the sunlight into bonds in sugars, transporting gasses and nitrates from the soil
So that it could function as a whole,
and in the apex, in the meristem,
two copies of one be made
Each with their own copy of this nuclear acid molecule
This essence of the plant in a pinpoint
Which knows how the plant should grow
To repeat and repeat and repeat and be itself in itself

And I look at it on this lump of soil
On this tiny ribbon
Between the chaos turbulence and uncertainty of the earth’s mantle
And the tedium of empty space
I can witness something interesting
Something unpredictable, yet regular,
Complex, yet structured
I can see nor beginning nor end, but I can make out forms and levels of some hierarchy
Which is also akin to me
Because “me” is also a collection of cells with doubly-helixed description of the whole in every part
Building up forms that can receipt and react
For example to light
And the manner it is reflected
It can discern patterns and shapes
A spear of summer grass
Separating it from the neighbouring stems and stalks
But what’s more! To assign it a name
As to the plant itself and leaves and venations and tissues and cells and organeles and proteins and molecules and atoms and quarks
Patterns of life mapped to patters of firing of neurons
Interconnected networks
And to map them into changes of the air pressure
Or regular spots on some surface
Distinguishable by another lumps of tissue
If they are not busy with jealousy or deception or blunders or lies
But why would they be
When they could observe this spear
Not giving in to their fears or deliria
Seeing it sa much as they can
And seeing themselves seeing it the same
Capture and talk
These clusters of organic matter
Organised to the extend of witnessing and responding and rearanging the organisation of everything else
Emergent in this ribbon where it is possible but sort of stable
Even to the extend of forming names and associations in a form vaguely attributable as poetry
By a persona typing them on a machine built to calculate and simulate and understand and carry out the patterns in yet another form
Who doesn’t actually observe the spear of summer grass
But neurons fire as if it was
To bring out the true poetry, the one on the meadow
Or here
Published under CC BY-NC-ND 4.0