I say it the ocean that it runs deep. But water it is not, quickly swept up by the wind.
Nor is it driftwood that rides the tides undecided. I Say it is the rudder that steers the ship. Not the sail that the wind does blow, but the ropes which carefully guide us to which direction we choose to go.
It is the rope that binds us not against our wills, but that of which we hold on to in the darkness of our minds where light does not our eyes show nor in winds that tell us No.