Reclamation

A crack in concrete becomes a highway for the smallest green invasions, roots that ask no permission just push, unfurling fern fronds where no one planned gardens.

The wall forgets its purpose becomes a gallery for moss, each spore a microscopic architect drawing blueprint after blueprint in soft grey-green calligraphy.

Between the abandoned and alive there is no border, only a gradual conversation— stone warming with lichen, steel softening into rust-red earth.

Nothing waits for our approval. The world simply keeps growing, patient as rain, insistent as spring, taking back what was always meant to be wild.