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.
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