The driftwood floats,

Down toward the rocky slopes,

Without a care in the world.

"I can't be bothered by those jagged rocks now,

In this cool water where I enjoy my ride,"

"Besides, there's still time to turn this around,

If I could just go against the tide."

"What a life this is being driftwood,

Where I go next is anybody's guess."

So I smile like nothing's the matter,

Not knowing how to get out of this mess.

But the rapids are swift,

As I look toward the cliff, 

Disbelief in the state I am in.

With no means of stopping, no place to get off,

I ask for a miracle I don't deserve...

Then... in the silience...

Alone in the stream...

There is hope...

Just around the curve.