Stream of Days

Life is but a stream of days
Flowing ever on its way
Leading us to coves and bays
Some are blue and some are grey.

In life we have our failed tries,
Still we strive to touch the sky.
So we must listen to the wise:
"Don't stop 'til you can fly."

We soon fly above the trees
And everything is there to see
Our faces fill with fresh new breeze,
And we embark now that we're free.

Each life journeys past the plains,
Along roads, a single lane,
Across life's beaches, sandy grains
Through the monsoon's heavy rain.

Finally we pass all bends
And find ourselves at the end.
This stream on own way wends,
And a new life it will send.