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From the outside winter enters A visitor unfree His Christmas chains that jingle He fastens now on me My vision sees him larger The further back I peer These cuffs once bound in anger Now comforting my fear An anxious glance before me Reveals what could be true Until the ghost assures me, “The ghost you see is you.” He looks most like a child Who sits with me as muse Explaining how we got here And what I have to lose His brow is furled with interest At why I keep him here When two more ghosts could visit To lead me from my fear Another Vision enters Who once I kept at bay I move a little farther To keep him far away The ghost child still is sitting On my every other side Enticing me to choose him And keep my chains in pride But in a still soft whisper The One who seems more real Is urging me to choose Him And come to him and heal Though eyes flit in betrayal I glance and see his calm I see a key that’s ancient Now rests upon his palm With God and ghost astride me I’ve always had this choice As long I live He goads me To hear his humble voice.
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Dec 30, 2025
Dec 30, 2025 at 3:46 PM UTC
The Ghost of Christmas Past
From the outside winter enters A visitor unfree His Christmas chains that jingle He fastens now on me My vision sees him larger The further back I peer These cuffs once bound in anger Now comforting my fear An anxious glance before me Reveals what could be true Until the ghost assures me, “The ghost you see is you.” He looks most like a child Who sits with me as muse Explaining how we got here And what I have to lose His brow is furled with interest At why I keep him here When two more ghosts could visit To lead me from my fear Another Vision enters Who once I kept at bay I move a little farther To keep him far away The ghost child still is sitting On my every other side Enticing me to choose him And keep my chains in pride But in a still soft whisper The One who seems more real Is urging me to choose Him And come to him and heal Though eyes flit in betrayal I glance and see his calm I see a key that’s ancient Now rests upon his palm With God and ghost astride me I’ve always had this choice As long I live He goads me To hear his humble voice.
Written by
46/M/California
Dec 30, 2025
Dec 30, 2025 at 3:46 PM UTC
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