If you are not with me...

I am seeing things.
Recognizing the artifacts in my life for what they are.
Somewhere past the forceful frontal visage,
Oh, how things appear to be.
What core content and purpose inborn see.

I am learning past the furniture that took the foreground.
Told of the things with pretend worth that I would
carry with such respect and vigor.
Now to see the worth inherent in these things
and find it lacking.

I push past these cobwebs clinging to respected things,
avoid the touch of disrespect now the true vestigial nature of them
brought before this light.

My steps press forward,
the ties to time that hold them back remain.
Now knowing I need not to fight restraint.
Littering my trail with fetters.

These things must needs be left behind for the progress to succeed.
Follow if they will, but it must needs be their own energy they do muster.
For my pressing on is required too much energy
and focus
that the crippling things must be abandoned.

Tomorrow will come better now.
Less cluttered.
In my appointed stations,
in the light of tomorrows dawn,
therein I will build up a shrine to the supposed
'needs' of the past
and look upon the shadow of their memory:
A motivation and reminder of the drudging shackles that I built
and grew to shed.