The River

The river of life flows swiftly,
turbid and deep, never still.
It rushes on, cutting its course
through sorrow's valley, over joy's high hill.
It sighs, it sings, it murmurs;

it roars a hearty protest
As it meets each newly found challenge
and rises to the test.
Each of us has a restless wave
whose variant crest we must ride
To face each day to its predestined end;
to sink or float with the tide.
The river tumbles on, rushing each bend,
over rapids of turmoil, waking whitecaps of pain.
til at last it reaches the delta of peace
to sink into the earth once again.
a new mouth, a wellspring, a source of release.
The river of life flows swiftly over rough and smooth terrain,
Forcing its way with the current, seeking what fate will ordain