To forget the law of constant change
Is like swimming against the tide
All passes, nothing remains
Yet our identity fictions abide
Here we're unable to move
Drowned in a maelstrom of pretense
Here Zeno's turtle proves
That stillness is not a lasting defense
Although we've set an internal order
To which we try to subdue others
Our Parcae are still blind
And they claim no sire but the endless night
Far upstream, the source takes shape
In a dream or an escape
Sometimes a narrow, meandering maze
Finally widening to embrace
The horizon as a whole
Calm and warmed by the Sun’s gleam
Then turning to a rushing stream
Ending in a waterfall
We see attributes and their exact inverse
Rivers are called by many names
Even if their natures seem to be diverse
Water remains to stay the same
Gently, but without a moment's respite
Drawn by the flow of time
Drop by drop, it all becomes a part
Of a future fully unknown
There’s a before to everything
But nothing like a beginning
Going further onward
Is merging more with the great course
Soon downstream, in the watershed
All the rivers will coalesce
Sometimes a narrow, meandering maze
Finally widening to embrace
The horizon as a whole
Calm and warmed by the Sun’s gleam
Then turning to a rushing stream
Ending in a waterfall