The lighthouse and the sailor
were as happy as could be,
despite one being bound to land
and the other, to the sea.
“Oh, lighthouse!” cried the sailor.
“Could you turn some of your light?”
to which she gently whispered,
“For as long as there is night.”
And so it happened that her silent fondness for him grew,
when the words that burned inside her heart did pierce the blackness through.
“Oh, lighthouse! What must I build or say, to let you know I care?”
To which she nodded softly, “I’m at peace when you are there.”
“But, lighthouse!” yelped the sailor.
“Say, someday your light burns out.
How ever will I find you
without rays to guide my route?”
“Oh sailor!” laughed the lighthouse,
“Say, someday you go astray
and my rays outstretched can’t reach you,
trust my light will find a way.
“But how?” he turned, bewildered.
“In the middle of the sea? It’s impossible to shine as far to reach the likes of me
and even if your reach was true, such things just cannot be.”
Smiling across the water, she glanced up at the sky
when she asked, “Did sailors look to them and ask the question, why?
The stars, my love, are permanent; they’re as endless as the sun, which falls and rises every day, before your work is done.
Yet somehow, they never fail us.
Everyday, the sun is there
to let you know, despite the storm,
you’ll always feel its glare.
Such love it is I have for you,
the warmth inside, I bear.”
“Lighthouse…” said the sailor.
“You speak of love as light.
How can you be so certain that the words you speak are right?”
“Because you give me purpose, as I must do for you.
That’s how, despite the silence, that I know our love is true.”
The sailor waved up at the light, for now he understood
that love need not be spoken of, to know such warmth is good.
Then the lighthouse shone her beams of light around his humble boat
when the words, “As long as there are gales” escaped his weathered throat.
Once a lighthouse loved a sailor
with a light as bright as day,
that shone each night and always
when she pulled him towards the bay.