Seasons of the Body - III
The aged man sat with hunched back.
Bent like the trunk of the willow,
he was leaning against.
The weight of his swirling thoughts,
spiraled his spiritual being,
into a deep vortex of inquiry.
Around his bone-weary body,
seemingly mocking him,
nature danced with merriment,
as birds' songs trilled
in rhythm with the gentle breeze,
with the sweet fragrance of flowers
reaching toward the heavens,
teasing his nose.
But, here sat he...
with a withering look,
feeling physically dry and shriveled.
One profound thought
absorbed this greatness of life.
That which was unmasked, palpable.
Laid out before his very eyes.
Co-creating with a Higher Power.
He mused, have I attained my destiny?
Surrounded by this display of Mother Nature
brought into focus by God's intent,
angst viscerally was heartfelt,
knowing the works of men
and works of God are so different.
Mindful of his defects,
those nasty imperfections -
he felt flummoxed about
the nagging question,
"What is my destiny?"
Then he swore he heard these words,
"My Son, you have arrived!
Be not afraid, but be glad of heart,
you have chosen to live a long life.
Your presence here,
in this very garden,
reflects that you have made this place,
a place to repose in God's sovereignty.
You have arrived at your destination.
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