As oceans hold and keep the lives of fish,

The Father holds our pneuma in his hand.

All waves resound His wonders as they swish,

And bow before Him as they reach the sand.

As ocean waters flow into a stream,

Our caring Father sent his only Son,

To save us from the devil’s evil scheme.

The stream designed a path were there was none.

The Spirit moves and dwells around his child.

A concept hard to fathom with our brain.

And as the freshness of a lake are mild,

His guiding presence will be fresh like rain.

The Three together work as one alone;

The waters join to form a solid stone.