Old Things

I cannot shed old thingsBy looking back at dark mistakes.And yet, they tug at my coatAnd beg to be understoodAs if I could figure them out.But I can't figure them out.They make no sense.And when I try,Dark clouds gatherAnd if I am not careful,They portend doom from whichMy mind must grapple to escape.And so I don't look back.I look forward to the bright lightOf 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 noticeAccept in retrospectThat old things have fallen away.