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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.
Copyright ©
Bernard F. Asuncion
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