The River behind the Strawberry fields

Painted the sky with an artistic hand,
The painter a distant grey.
And like a man pointing to the zenith,
The needles of time played,
Along the endless game that seemed never to seize.
Besides the quarters of many who based lives upon its very shore,
There raged and flowed an eloquent river, sparkling its water gold.
A patient person he was indeed not stirring at the life that flowed past,
Yet strung together in its infinite length was a helix so vast.
And almost as though compounded by motion, it catenated,
To form a continuity whole and unbraided.
‘River’ he saw the break of dawn that poured into the day,
watching slowly as the wings flew to the horizon a distant array.
It washed away the pebbles that each one of us is carapace,
Into the bliss and oblivion where matters not our what we negate,
The weights of life and destiny that all of us await.
For some this river holds a truth, a meaning to what they seek,
While others search in vain, within the depths of their reach.
To find a meaning and a reason behind why they love and loathe,
Towards the very people that they feel they are so cold.
The wheels of time and the reasons that passes our very souls,
Send us the message of the ones we love and behold.
Yet even during the worst of reasons and the worst of time,
We seem to forget the beauteous image and that soothing rhyme.
The sun has reached its nadir, but forever it went past,
Took along the tides of war and all that is the end till at last,
The river, it washes away all those scars and revitalizes the soul.
Yet it never stops!
The sun has set and the world now sleeps,
And in my dream I see.
A life reborn, a question of love, belief
That has flow away like a turtle dove.
The war in my mind is now but calmed,
Its been washed away by the infinite charm.
I am a man but deep inside me,
Is culminated a feeling.
I am the river you had so been seeking.

Sigmond ..rowing his boat gently down the stream