Follow the scent of freshly curated cinnamon,
Breathe the air where river dew lingers at dawn.
Step away from the busy terrain of old street,
And let your instincts guide your heartbeat.
Trace the aroma of herbs and spices to your fill,
Let it burn your nostrils; don't let it conceal.
Walk until your back faces the fading sun,
Go slowly; let the breeze leave you undone.
Watch as the golden hues dance upon the walls,
Feel the wind brush past the pearly white halls.
Stand still before the silent, shimmering stream,
Taste the sweetness that carries a dream.
Hear the song of insects, soft and low,
Let it tell you where your footsteps should go.
Stop when the shadows stretch in quiet grace;
End all wondering and start to embrace.