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
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