The First and Final Poem is the Sun
—Rowan Ricardo Phillips
First and foremost, let there be light. Try
to dwell in brightness.
Sometimes we seek darkness, thinking it brings solace.
Yes, it can be a place to lick wounds, learn from pain,
but do not get comfortable hiding there,
wandering in shadows, stuck in fear.
You have to be brave to open to light. It can feel harsh,
unforgiving. But, the final poem is the sun. Warmth penetrates
and melts resistance. Unfrozen, you can grow. You can
create, and become.
Marjorie Moorhead
Marjorie Moorhead has authored poetry collections Into the Thrum (2025), What I Ask, Every Small Breeze, as well as three chapbooks. Her poems appear in numerous online and print journals, and many anthologies, including The Wonder of Small Things (James Crews, ed.). Marjorie lives at the NH/ VT border.