A brook leads such a peaceful life;
never worry, never stride.
It glides along on natures arm;
exempt from pain, exempt from harm.

The water on the other hand,
gets banged around upon the land.
Over rock and over stone,
giving off a desperate moan.

We see our lives through water’s eyes.
Handcuffed to a brook that tries;
to push us through a violent course.
A subject to the Power Source.

A brook is what the Father sees.
Giving us a life that frees.
Us to rest upon His arm.
Safe from pain, safe from harm. rhc