Oh isolated icicle, I see your drip
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I see you gather at the cladding above, and you hold so tightly. Hold on tight, for the only part of contact that you have is with the above

Oh isolated icicle, I see your drip
I see your essence gleaning on your skin.
I see the part of you that comes from within and it gather and it collects and it slowly descends, it slowly drops, it slowly drips.

Oh isolated icicle you’ve been hung high, surrounded by icy air and yet all else is bare.

Oh isolated icicle do you know whose home of which that you hang? do you know his structure that holds you.

Oh isolated icicle you’re hanging here for a season. We’re just waiting on the warmth and the sun. We are waiting for the spring and the beginning. We are waiting for the inside to come outside. We’re waiting for the seeds to flourish up and as the seeds flourish up your icy drips descend down, slowly melting and disintegrating.

Your coldness evaporates, your ice water drip, drips and you will not be known as the isolated icicle. Oh soon icicle, you will drop, and it will be finished.

The time will be over for the season of isolated icicles.

psalm 27:5

For he will conceal me there when troubles come;
    he will hide me in his sanctuary.
    He will place me out of reach on a high rock.