“From Soil to Soul”
We left the noise.
Not because we hated it,
but because it forgot how to listen.
This page is a journal in motion.
A whisper of what’s real —
mud under fingernails,
herbs drying on the dash,
sunlight dancing across Tania’s cheek
as she stirs the balm we now carry in our hands.
These aren’t just products.
They’re poems.
They’re prayers.