I seek what I know not I want;
I seek an abode in the eye of the storm.
I trust the winds were sent for a reason,
To clear the dust or uproot the unstable base.
I trust that He’s guiding me with His beacon,
Slow or fast, at least I’m moving ahead in my own pace.
I know not what lies ahead;
I fear of losing what’s not mine yet.
I seek what I know not I want.