How your image was made

I was walking through a mountain with a stick in my hand
Just another wearisome traveler in a far off distant land
In the distance I could see a river as I stood in the shade
Reading my map and wondering how your image was made

Sticks and stones may break my bones but rocks will not hurt me
Is what I said to myself as I ventured downwards toward the valley
Please let me get down there safely is what I silently prayed
Careful with each step and wondering how your image was made

I made it safely to the river and dropped my bags onto the dirt
I cut myself and now there was blood draining through my shirt
But with a wolf howling I took refuge while clutching a knife and blade
Counting each and every star and wondering how your image was made

I woke up in the morning to the sound of a vulture overhead
Looking for something to eat and looking for something that was dead
But upon me the decision of where to go upon my shoulders gently weighed
Go east or go west and wondering how your image was made

The rain came down and below my feet were puddles of soaking mud
But through that storm I kept traveling with a face covered with blood
Fighting with that wolf wasn’t easy but by the river is where he stayed  
Wrapping bandages around my arms and wondering how your image was made

The sun then came out and around me birds were chirping and singing
I guess into my darkness it was beauty that God was now bringing
But as I watched a bear eat a salmon from out of that majestic river glade
I sat underneath a willow and kept wondering how your image was made

I then fell into a river of dreams and then fell away from all harms 
 It was a dream where you swam across the river and jumped into my arms
But when I awoke upon my shoulder it was your head that was silently laid
And as I kissed your forehead l kept wondering how your image was made