Terra Verde

In the heart of the village, a woman stands tall, Her dark skin glistening, like the earth's own call. With braids that speak of culture, and eyes that hold a tale, She cradles a wicker basket, as the land's bounty prevails. The thatched roofs whisper secrets, of a heritage so grand, The river's gentle flow, a lullaby to the land. The woman's hands, a testament to toil and earthy delight, As she holds the basket, with a gentle, loving might. In this serene tableau, where nature and culture entwine, The woman is the guardian, of a heritage divine. Her presence is a bridge, between the past and the present day, A symbol of resilience, in a world that's ever-changing way. With every step, she takes, the earth beneath her feet, Becomes a part of her story, a narrative so unique and sweet. The basket she carries, a vessel of abundance and grace, A reflection of the beauty, that the earth has placed. In this moment, she is one, with the land and its rhythm, A dance of harmony, where the heart finds its symphony.