The River

I found my home by the river

this is a real home to me

the river is my friend and teacher

makes me understand and see

I use to sit on the banks of the river

and watch the waters drifting by

with a quiet song the river flows along

I can hear it laugh and cry

Now that I've learned the art of listening

I hear the river talk to me

a thousand voices in the whispering water

now that I've learned the art of watching

a thousand pictures I can see

So many faces in the quiet moving river

faces of people and some of them I've known

I hear the voice of a fried and of my long lost wife

I hear the moans of dying

and the laughter of life

I hear the call of longing - the cry of pain

tender words of a loving woman - and the curse of a man

I see my good old father - I meet my warm caring mother

and all the pictures and all the voices flow into each other

Isn't life like the water

spring, brook and waterfall

proud and mighty currents

kissed by the warm shining sun

but there are also other days

when icy cold streams and frantic rapids

push through dark narrow channels

I see the setting sun reflected in the dancing waves

so sure of coming back again

I see the water rising up to the clouds

and returning with the rain

But whatever happens - the river flows on

and nothing can stop its course

until the distant goal is reached

all the pictures, sounds and voices

the whole wild world is in the current

the river of life is bound to reach the deep deep ocean

the ocean of Nirvana