Held back or holding back?

I remember I used to write

poems late into the nights.

I still do – write,

But now they're not to You.

I wonder, have I lost my sight?

The words still have their shine

But only as long as they aren't

mine.

Big words, small words,

even the pretty ones too.

No longer mine to savour,

they swallow my time.

Bring me back to my First Love,

Reach me in my darkness,

Pull my eyes back above. 

October of 2014,
I wrote this, happy:
"there was a comment i made today,
about how these past 5 months have passed so quickly,
and yet, have felt like an eternity.

I am happier than I've ever felt before.
buoyed by the hope of my God of the how much more.
and all that remains is to hear His call"

Five years, nearly,
Just past four.
One more eternity
one foot out the door.

But I'm not sure anymore.