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