One River of Life, twisting and turning and every flowing,
And never changing, despite the winds of change blowing;
Quickly here, slowly there, brackish some and also clear,
Translucent and wholesome yet sinister and most austere.
  
Some fight upstream in hopeless effort to reach the source,
Only to tire and weary, to be swept along the River’s course;
While other swim and play and leap, hopping and popping
In the ever flowing current with ne’er an idea of stopping.
  
Not all swim; they are just carried along, ever quite content,
But all reach the same end no matter how the trip was spent;
For there each is engulfed in the Ocean deeper than deeps,
Vast and endless and peaceful, where the sun never sleeps.