26/03/2026
Spominjanje...🌞🌛
Her Breath, the Earth’s Memory
She lifts her hands to the quiet sky,
and from her palms, the fragrance rises
not of one flower,
but of many seasons remembering themselves.
It is the scent of rain before it falls,
of soil awakened beneath soft footsteps,
of petals opening in unseen places
where only the ancestors walk.
The hummingbirds come like living prayers,
wings trembling with sacred hunger,
they gather around her breath of sweetness,
as if they recognize an old, forgotten song.
She does not call them
they arrive by knowing,
drawn to the gentle spirit she carries,
a fragrance shaped by earth and memory.
For what she releases is not merely scent,
but the breath of the Mother herself,
warm and endless,
flowing through her as wind through tall grass.
And in that moment, she understands
she is not creating the bloom,
she is remembering it,
as the ancestors remember her. 🌿✨
🎨 Art by Serin Alar
🖊️Poem: Piahn
