Leaving it to You

Self evident, truth mistakes no thing.
But my heart's a long way from there
and nothings very clear.
Yellow gold is almost burned up
by my desire.
White hair grows beside the fire.
Bitter indecision: choose this, or maybe that.
Even the spirits speak in riddles
and make it hard to harvest
the essence of a single day.
Catch the wind whilst you tether shadows.
Faith, or a man who'll stand by his word, is
all there is. There is no disputing.