And I was told- flow like water,
like the water in the river.
And I flowed, every day,
embodying myself as the river I saw,
crashing against the rocks of words,
falling from the peaks of disappointments,
swirling around the curves of truth,
I flowed like the water in the river,
never stopping, not once.
Yet now- I am asked to stay still,
heed the orders like the water of the lake,
take it- when stones of hurt are thrown at me
hold it- when dirt of disapproval is poured into me.
But why should I, why should I stop myself,
when the river never stopped its course,
after years of flowing why should I stop
to be something I am not.
Because, its makes no difference, the water- stagnant or moving,
retains the dust and air of the days she flowed.
Every rock, every hill, every fall, every swirl
barricading her wont erase the prints,
nor will she ever forget the pictures in her brain
Alone was she, flowing every painful day, peaceful night
holding on to everything, unable to let go
yet never pausing, nor ever drying up.