Everywhere Comes Back To Me

My travelling shoes got up early, they had hydraulic jump-starts. Countries spun my head around while I discovered lands only Albatross dream of in a limitless sky. Across many countries I loop-di-looped, crop-seeding my ever seeking mind. The trips and treks trudged to a stop in the late middle ages of my historically mobile plod. Now the world comes to me, to reveal all I missed. The nooks and crannies of distant plateaus and valleys, stones left un-turned, faces posted from places once so sea-sealed or landlocked, only the address-less could find them now. Everywhere comes to my door entering announced by wind-blown Tibetan cloud horns. I open a carriage window in a train of thoughts and let that 3-D atlas of all that was overlooked chug on by, watching from my roost and long anticipated nest of rest.