River Poem by Liilia Talts Morrison

How quickly our rivers flow
Bright birth in mountains high and low
While death awaits in undertow

How swift the passing of our days
Our victories in worldly plays
Too late to mend mistaken ways

When that small raft that bears my name
Has floated to the sea untamed
It's battered, beaten to the frame

The day arrives with rosy dawn
When striving seems to be forlorn
And I lie back on waves unborn

Ah life, what is its mystery
When will I know, when will I see
When will the Master rescue me?