The current shifts, a sudden gust,
The path ahead, a world of dust.
But I, like willow, bend, not break,
Adapt and grow, for goodness sake.
The wind may howl, the storm may rage,
I find my footing, turn a page.
The river flows, a constant guide,
I follow course, with nothing to hide.
The landscape shifts, a new terrain,
I learn the map, again and again.
The sun may hide, the moon may gleam,
I find my way, a waking dream.
For in the change, a chance unfolds,
A story waits, in silver, golds.
I am the river, ever free,
Adapting to eternity.