A great river rushes relentless
Unaware that its end is the sea.
If a river could question a thing so uncertain,
Would it doubt…turn aside…cease to be?
Life’s course can run cruel and crooked
Through storms that wail without wind.
In doubt we may deign it’s for nothing,
Still its surge is sublime at its end.
Does the river run without purpose?
No end in sight to give cause to believe?
Are we a brief blink light in eternity’s night,
Or is the darkness cast down at the sea?