Where do I go?

Where do I go?                                                                                 
 
Where do I go to get my innocence back?
O fresh-cheeked, joyous, clear-eyed boy!
 
Shall I break the news to you? 
I sold you out – ages ago, for shining trifles. 
 
Innocence strewn and squandered,
compliance wheedled and coaxed –
 
secret indulgences, anonymous compromises,
a whisper and a hope . . . and all for love;
 
all for love but I lacked the courage.
Beaten up, pasted over, trampled under,
 
I betrayed you and failed you and here you are again,
o innocent one, forgiving me, begging me to come clean.
 
I have no promises to make. It will take courage;
all the courage I never had –
 
the countless moments of truth
that came and went and found me wanting.
 
Where do I go to find that courage?
To get my innocence back? 
 
Here, said my Beloved. 
Come here.  Come to Me.
 
O child of God, your pretenses worn threadbare,
let your humble, homely truth shine through.