Burgeon

(Flourish)

A piece of yesterday remains,
A fragment we can't shake;
Don't be deceived;
Moving on doesn't erase the mistakes,
It's learning to sprout in the rain
While the mud becomes a fancy stone,
A decorated vase or a slate.
Though a piece of yesterday remains,
We put to death our old selves,
Though a fragment we can't shake,
We are called by a new name.
∞ ∞ ∞