ruinas vivas

The earth breathes among fragments.

Ruins, far from being an end, are open memory; skin that holds the pulse of time.

Their cracks resemble our own scars, marks the soul does not hide but gently transforms.

From what is broken, a serene, imperfect, deeply alive beauty blooms.

To connect with the earth is to return to the origin: to recognize that we too are fertile ruin, able to hold ourselves together from what has once fallen apart.