The Stones that you are walking on...

When you travel
Its not you who discovers the place
but the place discovers you..
and we look inwards
to see our new valleys
we open the skies to our winds
and it rains inside to wash out
our melancholic nights.
it showers crystals into the dreams
when you walk barefoot
the rocks which hurts your feet 
transmits the blessings from earth
they talk ..of the paths to our minds
of the red earth of memories.
we become the lonesome tree
on the green valley awaiting the tales
of wayfarers from distant lands
who rests on your shades..
and we disintegrate into
stones..winds..sands
in each step a flower ..in each sight a cloud..
when you sit there with eyes closed
the mist seeps into you 
and you become the stream
you become the river
and you dream of  yourself
as the leaf that floats 
taking its turn in each curve
where the river of life takes you..
when you travel
it is not you who discovers the place
but the place discovers you...