Run my fingers through you, cold and wet with a life of your own.. With that life you have power. The power to to give life or take it away, to remain calm or create a fury like nothing ever seen. You wiped out the world but returned it clean. Ever churning, ever free. The canoe cuts through you strait, clean, I run my fingers through you so to take a piece of that life for me..
I wandered floating in your vast seas, rivers, lakes, streams.. I found my voice when you poured down on my face, found my strength swimming through your waves and learned what was respect when I sailed through your fury.
Now I'll enjoy you, lay back ,arms stretched out on either side and run my fingers through you..
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