Upstream against a downstream tide
I swim, creature of tender hide,
and every bump and bruise of fate
impacts my senses with great weight.

At any time of any day
I might decide reverse my way —
be swept along as others go,
so blind of eye, of hearing slow.

What keeps me in this frantic stream
is more than some self-centered dream:
a King one day, called Jesus Christ,
swam up this way — that will suffice.