River of Life

Life is like a flowing river of opportunities. It’s up to you if you stand up with a bucket or a teaspoon.

Dalyan River_111 Dalyan River_112 Dalyan River_113 Dalyan River_114Dalyan River_109Dalyan River_98


  1. Dini,
    Hope you don’t mind but I wrote this poem some time ago and it just seems to go with your wonderful images.

    River of Life
    The young child sat cross-legged looking up to her grandma,
    In a puzzled voice she said, “What do you know of life so far?”
    The old lady paused briefly and with a smile uttered these words,
    “Life my darling starts way up in the sky, above the soaring birds.
    Love and dreams are combined at the moment that’s is right,
    To create a raindrop of life that shines and glimmers in the light”.

    The young child looked upwards with puzzlement and tilted her head,
    “If I am that raindrop what becomes of me then?” she slowly said.
    The old lady held her arm out and fluttered her wizened old hand,
    “With guidance and hope you gently glide down to the land,
    As you grow stronger and discover curiosity you start on your way,
    Trickling around the rocks of parenthood that guide you each day”.

    The young child swayed her body with the journey she saw in her mind,
    Then she asked “How will I know which way to go and what will I find?”
    The old lady considered the question with a frown but not for too long,
    “Our paths will be decided by what we believe to be right and wrong.
    Others will join and become the unstoppable rivers of teenage years,
    Carving through life noisily, fast flowing, undaunted by fears”.

    The young child looked down pulling at tufts of rug upon the floor,
    “But Grandma” she said “I don’t want to leave you for a river that will roar”
    The old lady laughed and moved her hand through the young child’s hair,
    “Although you may not see us your family and I will always be there.
    We will form the banks that caress you and stop you going astray,
    As you get wiser we will give you the freedom and move further away”.

    The young child held the hand that comforted her close to her cheek,
    “What will happen when the river ends” she said mild and meek.
    The old lady looked into herself with a tear that welled in her eye,
    “Rivers do not end my dear; they do not grow old or fade or die,
    They will join those they have ever loved or lost, just like you and me,
    And till the end of time we will be together in a never-ending sea”.

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