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

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