Sorrow, she Flows like a River - for Lotfi Bouslah

Sorrow, she flows like a river, she goes right through, does not care if you mind.
She will tear you right in half, leave you standing naked on the riverbank.
She is wild, she is ruthless and does not hold back, she will collect your tears
as the dawn turns to night.

Life is a journey, and unclear its path, all you can hope for is companions by your side.
There are few answers, few doors with keys that fit, just a lot of climbing and the mountains
further away as you near the sky, birds overhead soaring free and strong, while our feet cling
to the earth like roots of a tree.

Sorrow, she flows like a river, her goal quite precise, she will clean the dust right off your fear,
she will leave you full of holes, and still mend your wishes and hopes.
She asks no questions, gives no reason, no mercy or kindness, only the sharp blade of her soul.
She is a lover with a cold heart, and she will kiss you as she draws blood.

Sorrow is a mystery, and long its demands, all you can be sure of is that she will at some time be your bride. Her song follows the rhythm of a river, follows the power of water sure of its course.
She is free, has no masters, only the sure aim of her arrows as she tracks you down.
She is not cruel, she is not harsh, she is just the law that echoes like the crow's call.

Sorrow, she flows like a river, let her flow through you, or she will take you down.
Surrender to her like to a strong lover, let her have her way with you, so she can move on.
Sorrow, she flows like a river, so just hang on loosely, and don't mind the rocks that will leave their mark as you go tumbling down her strong waters as you catch your breath before she finally lets go.

Trudi Ralston