Water in a million ways,

From misty mornings, end of days,

And between which round us splays,

 

We shelter from its touch.

 

Umbrella-ed, cloud-filled plashing ‘bout

To rampant tears that trickle out,

And both wash away the hurtful doubt.

 

We shelter from their chill.

 

Where stars reflect their bronze-bright glow,

In silent lakes and river flow,

And trees stretch aloft as they grow,

 

To caress the Maker’s robe.