Seasons of the Senses

Where do I go from here? What is my destination?

All of my senses are alerted high.
No longer may I lounge alone and shy.
I must surrender my destination.
Lest there be a muddled altercation.

If I gain a stay of execution,
my God deserves thanks for that solution.
The search for purpose, a lingering task.
Former woes are seasons I wish to mask.

The radiant hues of the autumn leaves
lend transformation to what I believe.
Scattered thoughts are no longer relevant.
My enlightenment is now heaven sent.

The blazing heat that emits from the sun
dissolves all theories but the Holy One.
My faith in His love will forever abound.
Angels of refuge make a lovely sound.

A flurry of snow on a wintry night
brings all of life's complications to light.
As it whimpers down softly from the sky,
I'm learning that tears fall only to die.

I inhale the fragrance of a field in bloom.
Now and forever His Word I'll consume.
His provisional arm wraps around my waist.
With His love and protection I am graced.

He has taken charge of my destination.
I honor Him with faith and dedication.
My purpose no longer a question to me.
From burden and sorrow I have been set free.