At the surging storm-tossed tide
You find you cannot help but hide

Every lighthouse needs an ocean
Churning deeply around
Without a storm there'd be no need
For calm, for light, for peace

And when the raging seems too much
Rocky threats at every course
When all hope is lost and foundering
Your anchor tearing free

Climb up these phosphorescent stones
Light the ancient dimming torch
That you might see your way home clear
Up, up, I must go up

You will find your way

And at the lowest ebbing tide,
The bridge to safety opens wide.

12/6/17 2:40 AM

This started as a poem