Who tells the river the way to the sea?
The one obsessed knows where to be.
For hearts that burn with a destined motion,
Don’t seek advice — they become the ocean.
No master points, no scripture guides,
The path unfolds where silence abides.
In stillness flows the current deep,
Where seekers wake from mortal sleep.
Each stone, each bend, each fleeting pain,
Drives it to grow — none go in vain.
To flow is faith, to trust is art,
To lose the self is to find the Heart.
The mountain’s pride, the forest’s song,
Whisper — You’ve known the way all along.
For rivers move by nature’s will,
The more they yield, the more they fill.
Desire dissolves in sacred streams,
As names fade out in waking dreams.
What once was ‘I’ is now but whole,
A drop returned — the boundless soul.
So, heed not maps, nor counsel, nor plea,
Truth flows where truth must be.
For hearts that burn with pure devotion,
Do not arrive — they are the ocean.
Sreejith Kulaparambil
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