The beautiful ship slipped from the harbor
the sail on the mast was a one hundred yarder
sleek, massive, expensive, spirited
hailed the fastest and virtually unlimited

Lauded as the largest sail ever made
built of materials of unquestionable grade
In spite of all it's glory, warp and expense
limited it was; dependent upon the wind

Without the wind it lay motionless in the sea
virtually adrift, worth little more than debris
you see, it wasn't the sea that drove the vessel
it wasn't the sail so solid and sessile

Without the wind, it was dead in the water
unable to move of its own power
It took the wind which moved with might
sent it on its way, its direction right

Tis the same with us no matter how great
no matter how much talent, or beauty ornate
no matter how well words you articulate
or the highest notes you are able to relate

Without God in our life, we're miserably frail
leaving a winding, unguided trail
casting about, only sinking we flail
for you see, the wind moves the ship . . . not the sail