It is not hard to imagine why rocks came to be worshipped, they have the energy that transcends, connects and speaks a language of its own. It has silent language of stories: multitudes of tales, a passage of time. It was a warm afternoon in my childhood, there was no one to play with, my friends were asleep and so were my brothers, I was wandering alone in the streets as I often did. There was something comforting about the listlessness wandering brought, it felt surreal, sparked imagination and I didn't feel alone. It was at that time I first saw the rock, it was a large sized rock made of marble and I sat near it, I don't know how it came to be there but it was a mountainous region so it was not unusual. And thus sitting in the afternoon sun, begun a long conversation that flowed, it felt I was in presence of someone much wiser, older who would guide me in the confusing world I inhabited, I was immersed. It was experience filled with awe, I don't remember the conversation just remembered how I felt, accompanied. I wasn't the only one talking, I realize now it was my subconscious releasing its energy, it was a space without judgement, a silent listener who mirror me. I came to see the rocks as friends who made me feel strong, heard, felt and that I was not alone. The rock served as a retreat for my young heart.