Some of us want to flow,
like water,
on a quiet afternoon, at midday.
But we forget
that in the river,
there are rushing rapids and gentle pools.
Sweet curves,
flat bends,
with unexpected obstacles
that stir up small turbulences,
yet it kisses every stone.
It has no control,
no expectations,
it just flows, with the moon as its witness.
It lingers in whirlpools,
some evenings,
only to find its course again by morning.
It flows, leaving behind romances,
mountains, and beautiful memories.
The river flows with purpose,
caressing its shores.
The river flows without expecting anything,
giving the best of itself.
It is energy,
it is life,
it is like life itself,
in its most tender and serene form.