A Boat in a River

The maiden green had bathed in divine showers-
For scorching heat, a sweet antidote,
As I walked along the shore of a river,
I saw a boy make a paper boat.
Its strange how paper is much like our mind,
Folded at will, writ on and signed.

From rills to brooks to creeks and then the stream
On drifted the boat by willful zephyr,
While the river embraced a sky-like theme
From heavens she looked like a silver hair.
Born pure, mid snow crowned alps she runs,
Is smeared by grime on fateful turns.

At times so shrill at times dulcet and smooth
On rode the boat as music flows,
On rustling waters, though coxswained in truth
By blustery tides and wind that blows
For the body has to journey, then the soul,
Though be it wrecked or be it whole.

Thus boats of life sail on one-way river of time
Flit to meet the ocean of their death,
As for all toils, steering to the end's prime
Else quicker comes, the doom by fate.
In death sink ships ends time, and all our errands,
But few sail beyond graves to surreal lands.