I look at the smooth, virginal snow
For an untrodden place to go.
I see other places where there are footsteps
From other adventurers’ footfalls sunken deep
But well-worn paths lack the freshness
And are trails blazed for others’ business.
No. I’d like to walk my own way
Without blackened snow along the highway.
Give me a wood or field to venture through,
Where I can walk through the white with You.
I think I feel You now in the wind;
Your loving caress reminding me again:
You are Lord, and I’m but a man
Who will walk with You as far as I can.