My waters had their genesis in the sea,
A path created was fashioned for me;
It can't be changed for there my toil
Winds through life in a twisting coil.
My waters end where they began,
Where life takes hold of its brief span;
To return to that enigmatic source,
Where once again I flow on my course.
The fragrance from the flowers as I pass,
Scent the air with whispers from the grass;
And my waters run down as they go
Over gemlike stones my streamlets flow.
And the tears that pour from my sad eyes,
Go back to the sea where all rivers rise;
And if my soul should suddenly leap
Over a ledge to kiss violets that sleep;
Then I will wander back to the sea,
The mother source that set me free.
And if those riddles I must keep,
Let me not complain, but sweep
On to the bitter end without fear,
Knowing that He who walks with me is near.