A creaking vessel is my spirit
on a strange and hostile sea,
sailing through the gloom,
a night that can’t be riven
by feeble glowing moon
or countless distant stars.
Low, beyond horizon’s fall,
shows a single, far-off glow,
dim light of shining promise,
amber hope for which I steer.
Tiller gripped, pushed hard over,
through thunder crack
and lightning slash,
through sleeting rain
and raging waves,
topping maddened seas
against a hindering current
and foul, contrary winds.
Forced to tack
and plunge and roll
toward a light that draws me on.
What, beyond the curve of earth,
will reveal itself to me?
Another ship in peril?
A barren, hostile shore?
A line of burning wrecks?
As the brilliant nimbus
rises into view,
I stare through misted lens,
at spyglass’ distance.

It’s you.
With your lantern raised
for me — as if you knew
how tossed my little craft.
It’s the steady light you hold
that can bring me safely home.

for Lisa on Valentine’s Day 2025