A River Of The Will
A river of the will,
Plays in my mind.
I call her to come out,
But she stays behind.
She flows and says-
O, let me do the thing,
Which I desire;
I'm now a spring.
Just telling this,
She jumps from myself,
Riding on a cloud,
She flies like an elf.
With a pensive mood,
I sit by the window,
It starts raining outside,
My room gathers shadow.
I think, where's my will?
She isn't in the sky-
A whisper comes in my ear,
I can't believe my eye....
The drops of rain fall there,
Wetting my hot face,
Tell me-'Dear we are here,
Giving you cool brace.'
Then go back to the river,
To be again the cloud,
To flash with the thunder,
To roar aloud!
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (A River Of The Will by Neela Nath )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(24 January 1572 - 31 March 1631)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Alfred Lord Tennyson
(6 August 1809 – 6 October 1892)
(c. 600 BCE)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Dylan Thomas
- Invictus, William Ernest Henley
- Death Be Not Proud, John Donne
- Dreams, Langston Hughes
- No Man Is An Island, John Donne
- A Dream Within A Dream, Edgar Allan Poe
- ~I Choose the Mountain~, howard simon
- The Late Gift, Martin Swords
- Mother To Son, Mankhokwe Namusanya
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