The river begins, like all rivers, as a non-descript stream, unknown, but never bothered by anything on its path, singing out the music of the joy within and the beauty without, jumping down the little descends and making way round the big boulders, facing everything on its path, never afraid, never with a drop of guilt or regret...
The water is crystal clear though little, and it feels pure, pure, and there is a joyous realization of being alive... Music, music all the way, it grows day by day.
Where, and what, muddles its bed... and the going is now reckless, sometimes with sorrows so deep, sometimes with suicidal jumps down great rocks, sometimes drowning life in her own tears... Sometimes welling up with strange thoughts in the mind, pregnant with fears - and scares...
Nevertheless, the heart remains pure, agape still glistens and lights the flame up, and there are moments of peace, rest and respite, moments of cherishing that carefree past, of chatting with the trees and whistling to the winds, realizing the pure flame of love that hasn't yet burned out...
