Although they had sailed the seas and

Traversed the mountains, forded the

Rivers and streams, navigated the 

Chernozem wetlands, and crossed 

Vast deserts where nothing had 

Stopped them – not blizzard,

Rockslide, derecho, avalanche or

Blistering sun – they came to a halt,

Unable to proceed. Dead stop.

In front of them an inferno blazed with

Exploding pines, fire tornados thousands of

Feet high, lava and coals spewing,

Rocks melting like wax, heat so intense

One could not come within miles.

From within a deep voice bade them 

Enter and not be afraid, but fear

Welded them in place. They could not

Move and seemed afraid to breathe.

A being of light ten stories tall wielding

A flaming sword lifted them in its

Gigantic hand and carried them to the

Edge of the firestorm, gently whispering

“Fear not, fear not, for here only 

Dross can burn.” And, in very fact, as they,

Holding hands and trembling, walked into

The conflagration, they felt no pain, only a

Warm glow that caressed them like a

Mother’s breast, and a strange feeling of

Safety and wholeness swept into them.

As they walked deeper into the fires, they

Had a sensation of becoming lighter,

Freer, and more peaceful. The flames 

Sang and music filled the air. Now

Wingéd creatures flew with birds,

Horses pranced, and monkeys swung; then

People from every tribe joined them in 

Song and dance, all light; trees, still on fire but

Not consumed spoke old wisdom, lovers

Embraced midair; at last, they emerged on the

Other side into a flowered meadow beneath

Towering peaks that framed a

Glorious throne.

LRT

3March2023