My lucky motorboat glides swiftly on a river
Where souls have fallen from mother wars of long ago.
How rich the waters have become from crimson droplets
Of bodies garbed in olive fatigues and leafy helmets
How memories have floated and sparkled
Dancing in the sun.
Yes, - memories tell of triumph and defeat
With casualty as their common name.

In either case, courage did not falter or faint
Or get blown by gusty winds of our time.
It melted right here into water molecules
Transformed into freshness and beauty, --- cleansed --
But nevertheless, still fragrant.

The arching bridge close by resembles a discolored rainbow
As if some muddy rain had soaked and bathed its steel rims
With debris, leaving marks as permanent as scars on faces
Drawn by bayonets

War came because leaders elsewhere failed to draw the peace.

War is chaos and starvation
Is ugly destruction and oppression
Is senseless stagnation and degradation of values
Is moral and physical deterioration.
It is mostly watch and wait for a tomorrow that sometimes
Never come.

And now the river starts to be alive again as we aggressively charge on.
The crooning of the wind echoes the wailing of a child of war
Calling out for bluer skies
Waves splashed and cooled our faces sending for bubbles
That separate and merge and burst into a million diamonds
Until the river becomes a bed of precious gems.

Yonder at stone's throw on the shore, an elephant glides
With tusk curved gracefully, rolling logs wearily
In the baking sun and humid afternoon
Destined to take a break, she plunges in the river for coolness and comfort.
Rising gently she emerge refreshed, body and spirit altogether
Renewed.