They came to our lands. Limping heavy impossible steps. Cold structures once inhabited by warmth. So alien yet so familiar. In the beginning we were afraid. From the safety of our homes, speculating about dangerous motifs. Would they take our place and transform us into what they were: Empty, fragile, lost? Would the gaping holes of their façades swallow us in a moment of inattention? Nonetheless these blocks became part of our landscape. The speculators keep speculating. Time passed and some of these blocks stopped wandering. Others continued. We would wake up from our sleep to find them rooted into our soil. Their soil too. In the nights their once lonely insides would start to shimmer with little lights. Very weak at first, but soon they stood beautifully ablaze. Once roots find their way back, warmth will follow.
A thought to those who have had to leave their homes behind, whether forcibly or by choice.