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Molten in cold love from the warmth of the seasons

flowing along mounts, valleys and the lands of the peasants

I see life, I see death

From the first bath of a baby

to the last submergence of the gone and old

I flow sometimes politely sometimes too bold

I have the lost memories of the child

who runs along my banks with paper boats

an unknown destination to where it floats

and the memories of a lonely person

denied by the world

comparing the flow of his tears

with my mighty waters fierce

I have the memories of an old man,

Mourning for his gone love

the memories of his first kiss along my banks

laughter of the kids and the joy of their pranks

I contain the fury of the floods and the droughts

I grace the lands with the harvest of the crops

I have seen them all come I have seen them all go

My path of solace is steady and slow

What makes you give up ?

Look a dead leaf has traveled this far

sometimes it is important to go with the flow.

-Ananya Bhatia

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