The Autumnal Phase Poem by James Tipp

My life is static caught in an autumnal phase
Looking through the glass I see that all is hidden,
The certainties of finding the way shrouded;
The familiar wrapped in clinging mist,
The distance reduced to myopic proportions.
I could struggle through, face pressed against the glass
Lights so bright reflected back at me, useless in the mist
Or rest in the comfort of the past clarity of purpose
Remember images in my minds eye of previous visions
We always want the spring, and summer periods
Never the winter, or the autumns, as we pilgrimage.
We want to be sure that we are on track successful.
Life gives us variety and each phase has its purpose
In the mist I have to be still and wait on God
Instead of thinking he is following me.