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 )
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
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