Come to the Waters, Adaptable

I flow like a river that moves around rocks, Molding like water splashed into cup or box; Like tides conforming to the force of the moon, A stream twisting through a bending valley's tune. A soft air slipping through the narrowest cracks, A wind that changes paths with no stops and tracks; Like a smoke coiling around every corner, A kite adjusting to swift gusts or blower. I am a clay designed by God's unseen hands, Being adaptable, my mind understands; I am a master key that suits any lock, As the Lord Jesus opens the gate of His flock. The Holy Spirit reminds me of seasons, For I am leaves that turn with climes in reasons.