THE FLOW : SONNET 48

From height of mother's womb comes out the flow 

Silent and small, with a resolve to conquer

Life's insurmountable hurdles and to grow 

By right or might, to fame of no-feud victor.

Contain'd within its banks, it rushes on

Passionate, past rocks, over waterfalls;

Then wide it spreads out in a stately fashion 

As banks recede and sink numberless thralls.

But true, a river never rises up

And, though in aid to some lives and livings,

It only drowns the lows, earth masses and humps,

But flees mountains and hills in abject yielding    

To finally quit what it wished to be,

Then noiselessly it merges in the sea.

- N. P. SAMAL, POET, AUTHOR, ACADEMIC