The Lighthouse Keeper

My life sails on an ebb and flow sea,

Sometimes calm,

Sometimes tossed by the most turbulent, 

Yet subconscious, invisible of waves;

Triggers, like lightning

Strike me, 

Forcing me onto the

Jagged rocks of trauma, 

Which rise like daggers beneath the surface,

Waiting to cut me down

And silt my bow in depression's leech-like mud. 



In the highest of tides, 

Great white caps of emotion

Bear down on my weather-beaten hull, 

Crushing my deck-strong spirit, 

Eroding the very fabric of my being,

Leaving me scarred, and drowning - 

In a storm of my own mind's creation. 



But, in the midst of all this impenetrable darkness

I see a light.

Your light.



You give me your light,

And with it your love. 

A beacon, 

With which to guide 

My soul-wrecked vessel home; 

Your quay-arms-embrace, a sanctuary

In which to drop anchor, to rest. 



Later, then, 

All ship-shape and Bristol-fashion, 

You propel me onwards,

To more mindful shores - 

Into a future, 

Where long-sought-after, far-off adventures

Appear closer, 

On broader, brighter, fog-free horizons.



You are my lighthouse keeper, 

And with your light

I shine. 



A Wensley

This version 5.03.2023

Inspired by C. H.