I cannot shed old things
By looking back at dark mistakes.
And yet, they tug at my coat
And beg to be understood
As if I could figure them out.
But I can't figure them out.
They make no sense.
And when I try,
Dark clouds gather
And if I am not careful,
They portend doom from which
My mind must grapple to escape.
And so I don't look back.
I look forward to the bright light
Of all that He has promised.
I step into the sunshine,
And then into the sun,
Hot and scorching.
And it burns away the old.
But I do not notice
Accept in retrospect
That old things have fallen away.
