Flowing, flowing, ever flowing,
Churning, bubbling, boiling, going
As a river over rock.
Rolling stones together knock.

Lonely stones below the water
Having neither son nor daughter.
Is there none to tell the story
Of their quest for truth and glory?

Rising, rising, ever rising
As the mist of dawn's devising.
Stumble then into the haze,
And your senses I amaze.

Falling, falling, ever falling
As the mother earth is calling.
Falling down in drops of tears
I shall wash away your fears.

Lonely ones amidst the rain
Wish to see the sun again.
Longing for another morn,
They are now for me forlorn.

Flowing, flowing, ever flowing,
Always moving, ever knowing.
Having neither son nor daughter,
There are some who call me water.