The River That Would Not Rest Poem by Natasa To

The heavens wept without an end,
As mountains watched the rivers bend.
What once was life became a tide,
Sweeping homes and dreams aside.

Ancient streets fell cold and still,
As roaring waters crossed each hill.
The earth itself seemed wrapped in grief,
Searching endlessly for relief.

Yet through the storm a lantern burned,
Where every act of kindness turned
Into a light that pierced the rain,
A promise born from loss and pain.

Neighbors carried one another,
Seeing every face as sister, brother.
In soaked hands and weary eyes,
The strongest hope refused to die.

For floods may conquer walls of stone,
But never hearts that stand as one.
When dawn returns with golden light,
It honors those who faced the night.

And though the river leaves its mark,
And memories linger, deep and dark,
The spirit, steadfast as the sky,
Will rise again, forever high.