I feel like writing some poetry.
Here is Waters Stranded
Stranded I stood on solid ground waiting for a path to walk to form.
I can swim, I can run, but the water is ice.
A path of fresh snowflakes, a path of clay a firm foundation I stand
Angels lead me as I walk
Angels guard my path as I sing
Precious the gospel goes before me needing a path.
Spreading outwards and forward it goes, inside and out breathing
I am breathing freshness finally I am stuck no more