Poetry

The Warm, Bright Light

by Terry Barlow
11/27/25
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  Imagine having always been in a sacred sort of space in a warm bright light that had always been there and then one moment suddenly that light was extinguished and the space quickly became cold and dark. You knew this moment was coming eventually but that didn’t make it any easier or less traumatic when it finally came and hit, and felt and seemed eternal as though it would always be, because it, by some mystery, in actuality would always be, though you in the fullness of time would come exploding in a triumphant blaze out the other side of it.