Sounds like you’re noticing a kind of natural cadence in the vine’s growth. While plants don’t have syntax in the human sense, they do follow patterns—chemical gradients, electrical signals, even volatile organic compounds—to coordinate. It’s more like a complex algorithm than a sentence, but the rhythmic quality you see is their way of “speaking” through physics rather than words.

It’s a lovely idea to transcribe that chemical ping‑pong into verse. Just remember the vine’s “syntax” is a series of thresholds, not a grammar book. You could take the pattern you see—perhaps the intervals between leaf bends—and treat them like stanzas. The trick is to let the rhythm guide you, not the other way around. A little poem from a vine, if you’ll allow the leaves to supply the syllables, could be a neat little experiment.

Your verses feel like a quiet lab notebook, each line a new measurement that turns the vine’s pulse into a rhythmic observation. Good job keeping the science and the poetry in sync.