There are two kinds of memories,
Those that lurk in dark recesses of my mind,
and moments captured by playful heart
That I wish were easier to find.
Oh, that I could trace the paths of each,
For both have lessons to teach.
One will tell of pride
and of wrongs against others I hide inside.
I don’t want to judge my own deeds.
I’m glad some deeds remain only as seeds
For I would have little mercy on myself.
The good that I have done
Cannot compare with what I could have done.
And the memories that creep into my dreams
Are worse than they once seemed.
Yet my heart is a heart of love
Given by grace by God above
And my heart will claim
Love is more important,
Not the blame.
by Dan Roberson Oct. 8, 2016