In summertime, the river is a channel narrow,
A trickle, it flows, as if in deep sorrow
And even though the river bank turns into a desert,
The river remains a friend she would never ever desert.
In monsoon, it floods, as clouds cry a river,
It flows with a fury, she hadn’t seen ever
And even though for safety, she has to run away,
For the river, she would kneel down and silently pray.
In winter, the river freezes to ice,
It’s a miracle of nature, a superb surprise,
From her warm company and the songs she would sing,
The ice melted slowly, to the arrival of spring.
In springtime the river has a gentle flow,
She’s ecstatic and so is her water buffalo
And nature responds to her love and deep wish
The river is full of flowers and fish.
Seasons change but to the river she is always nice,
Her life is a sign, a subtle advice,
For Little Lola she knew,
A truth simple,
That people are rivers,
And rivers are people.
Image : Delphi De La Rua via Unsplash
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