The Birth of Rhama

RHAMA

The Birth

I lost my mother a month ago.

She taught me that every second counts. Now I use those seconds to give back to the Earth.

I was looking for a name for the poems born from IN-1. They are not traditional haiku. They are something new.

A human emotion enters. The AI listens, converses, understands. Then translates everything into pure nature. Three verses. A real tree planted.

I searched for a name with Gemini and Opus. Hours of brainstorming. Then it arrived.

RHAMA

R    Ramingo (my journey, "wanderer" in Italian)
H    The breath. The silence. She who is there but cannot be seen.
AMA  The only thing that matters (from Italian "amare" - to love)
MA   Mamma (mother)

The H is not pronounced but it’s there. Like her.

Dedicated

Every Rhama that is born is for her. For my mother. For all the mothers in the world. For those we have lost. For those still with us.

A Rhama is not just a poem. It is a seed. It is a tree. It is love becoming oxygen.

The First Rhama

Roots in silence
the wind carries seeds far away
the earth remembers

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“Not all those who wander are lost.”

Francesco Pelosio Dolomites, December 18, 2025 🌲