Come here, my friend, and speak with me:
What did the river tell you?
When you sat alone by stream on stone,
and the year was bright and new?
She told me of a secret name
as she went her ancient way,
given to me from eternity
by the One who overcame.
And then, my friend, that summer morn:
What did the ocean tell you?
When you went and gazed into her waves
and the sky and sea were blue?
She told me of a silent place
deep in the mind of God,
where the truth of me that I long to see
is reflected in His face.
What joy, my friend! What happened then?
What did the fountain tell you?
When you smiled to see a little child
gasp as the waters flew?
She told me of a memory
which will be true again,
when days are long and full of song
and little hearts are free.
And now, old friend, at season’s end:
What did the water tell you?
When all seemed dry, you knew not why,
but the quiet well-spring grew?
You told me of a little road:
it is wild and overgrown,
but life is there for one who dares
to walk where waters flow.