The River - Poem by cyclopseven Ram
Flows with gentle cheerful gurgle
Playing truant with rocks and fallen woods
While keeping within the limit
Of the narrow but deepest path.
Rises where it must and when it’s needed
For the push that gravitates never leave her idle
And splash downward from the dizzying height
To kiss the rocks embedded in its bed
And waterfall, we call that by name.
Her generosity is not just for human
To wash and to bath, to drink and to cook
She lies generously beyond the height of selfishness
Towards the beast and birds, plants and trees too
To quench their thirst and to rejuvenate their growth.
The lucid appearance
Reveals the fishes that swims gaily
And allows for the sun rays
To kiss the cool earth that stay beneath.
Though winding the path seems to be
She gracefully takes to her path,
While talking the nature’s way of peace
She ends herself in mingling with the sea.
Though torrent flow of excessive rain water
Overflows her generosity
Troubling many and killing many
Yet in the end she triumph victorious
When man ferry the loving and living
Across her, and safely reaches the other side.
©cyclopseven. All rights reserved 280308.
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