Upon Reading Old Diary of My Life

Today, I discovered an old diary,
Sat and held it in my hands,
Red bound leather where I long ago wrote
Secret truth of hidden thoughts….
Old letters of days once lived.
 
I read it as one reads of myth and legend,
Telling ancient truth from ages past,
Yet still the knowing comes,
Painful learning shines from page to page—
How slow my younger self took,
Against my conscious will,
To finally see and know.
 
Some pages hold words of sorrow,
Others revealed a joyous song
Written between straight lines,
As dreams now fly upon the morn,
Now lost… I do not mourn their passing.
 
My soul is finally more forgiving,
Wider open in compassion to past years already lived,
Knows the need for deeper wisdom,
Light and dark hours intertwined,
Chapters of past years searching,
Branches of each day reaching
Always outward on the path for greater light.
 
 

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