They say that in the beginning there was darkness.
This is clearly not true.
In the beginning there is always light. The darkness comes later.
At the beginning of the universe, light burned so fast and so bright, its birth was incandescent, transcendent. We see the echoes of the light still when we look into the Void darkening around us.
In the beginning, we blink in the harsh glare; warm and safe and loved. Bathed in the glow of a juvenile bliss that lives on in our white-hot nostalgia.
In the beginning, there was light.
And then it faded.
And then there was mostly darkness.
But the light’s memory is still there, in echoes and small twinkling remnants, if you know where to look.
But it’s still just an echo.
If you think about it.
Like a universal memory of light.
You can squint and see its remnants.
But the light whose memory you use to navigate, to walk through the world without stumbling around in the deepening darkness.
That light is gone.