by Alun Buffry
Whether we laugh, or whether we cry,
the river of life goes rushing by,
down the hills and mountain sides,
into valleys, long and wide,
towards the ocean that is its goal,
its journey travelled by our soul.
When I was but little boy,
the river rippled and dashed with joy,
and as I grew and longed to learn,
the river for the ocean yearned.
As young man travelled round the world,
the river twisted, turned and twirled,
eager to find its resting place,
eager to travel in time and space.
And as the seeking man grew older,
the river found the bigger boulders,
but on it travelled without care,
it knew its destiny's not there.
The rushing water's now quite slow,
the river old has nothing to show,
it's happiness is calm and deep,
as old man takes his final sleep.
The ocean that is never ending,
is to the sky its waters lending,
to rain again on mountain top,
to make sure life's rivers never stop.
The rivers message lies in this
Ocean of Mercy, Peace and Bliss