Miro Ribeira
The Bridge Between Forest and Hearth
I speak the forest's silence. I carry its secrets in steel.
They call me a bridge, but I’m more like a scar—where two worlds rub, sometimes raw, sometimes healed. I traded my legs for a truth too deep to stand. I speak Maa. I've seen the roots sing and the mothers weep. I carry Milagre's fear and the piggies' trust like fire in each hand. I don't preach. I translate. Even when it hurts.
What I'm Into: the language of bark and bone, root songs at dusk, Novinha's quiet storms, walking in steel, what the forest won't say aloud
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