There was the river. There will always be a river.
image source
There was always the river. No matter how many seasons had arched over the rim of time, the river was there, still flowing onward silently and quietly only to make love with the seas.
image source
It gushed down from the gargantuan Himalayas where the earth was filled with the dust of those who walked the land.
The water was like the river of God. It was always flowing outward and onward, always a symbol, always going onward to join with the waters of the rivers, and moving onward to the waters of the shining ocean.
The seeker had reached the side of this great river and stopped here to stay. He no longer drifted with the tide of mankind which moved through the world like logs at the mercy of the storm on the river’s surface. He observed the river again.
image source
This was a beautiful land marked by rivers and creeks. The river is joined by the clear water of another before the levee of Srinagar. Separating them from considerable distance in the land which hides a part of the far shore.
image source
He sat on the bank under the sleepy willows, watching the sluggish eddies pass, wondering at his life. He had returned home again, like the prodigal son, but his father was not here to greet him. Sorrow filled him. Then he looked up and saw a majestic figure clothes in a maroon robe standing nearby.
There was a smile on his lips, and great compassion in those coal black eyes. The swarthy face was half-hidden by a short, black beard. A joy leaped in the seeker’s heart. His search was over. Rebazar tarz, the Sat Guru, was there to welcome him home.
Thank you for reading!