Yet The River Flows

The thunder roars,
there's a lightning flash.
Trees fall down,
the ground is torn.
Time is stopped,
yet the River flows.

One lone house
on the hill still stands.
Deep inside, in the basement dark,
sits a child
alone and cold.
Destruction and death
he has seen this day.
His family,
his life dead.
He has nothing left,
yet the River flows.

A knock at the door,
a light shines through.
The boy turns away,
his grief too great
to face the man
who has come so far
across the world.
Back too soon
to see his beloved home
flooded through.
He has no hope,
no reason to live.
His life is gone,
hiw work destroyed.
He turns to leave
but hears a sound
from up the hill.
He turns to see
his neighbor's house
alone still stands.
He wanted to see,
he had to know
if his special friend was yet alive.
His light shone through
to reveal the boy
huddled still
in the basement dark
turning away
from the light so bright.

The man's grief
is greater still
when he sees the bodies
of loved ones dear
lying still as in sweet repose.
Grief is great,
death so complete.
Time is stopped,
yet the River flows.

As the man and boy
together cry,
a holy light grows
stronger there.
The man glances up,
then shakes the boy.
For an angel stands
there in the den, reaching out to take their grief.
Both quickly realized
that even if the thunder roars,
the lightning flashes,
the trees fall,
adn the ground tears,
even is time is stopped,
the River flows.

The River flows
swift and true
through the hearts of men
giving hope and life away.
Work acquired,
homes rebuilt,
families found,
time restored.
And yet the River flows.