As the path she was taken become to dark to see
She reached for her light to see where she should be.
As the rain starts to fall and then starts to pour She reached for her umbrella, not wet anymore.
As the rapids go wild and her boat floats down river, she reached for the oars that he did give her.
As she climed up the mountain her legs bacome numb, She reached for a branch she claimed had a thumb.
As the stranger came closer she dialed on her phone, She reached for some comfort when she felt so alone.
As the sun turned hotter and burned to the skin,
Was that which she reached for, not a thing but a him.
He lead the way to help on her the right path, he was the umnbrella and the rain could not last.
He was the oars that stayed through the rough,
and he held out his hand and thought it was enough
He was the comfort that she held up to her ear
not one doubt in her mind, that she new he was there
JW
