A lighthouse up on the horizon signals
impending hope,
as a monument it shows that perhaps
Home is nearby.
Whose home, though?
Anyone’s, can be my guess,
mattering most is not whose ownership,
but the act of rescue by another,
of housing us,
encapsulation,
we’ll be welcomed after times of distress.
No need for self-destruction,
for surging waves of emotion to take o’er,
our boat will be held until its safe docking,
salvation is before our eyes.
And as we thank the strangers who pull us in,
their eyes wild with haste and pressure to correctly
drag our boat ashore
I silently thank the lighthouse
for shining unto us,
delivering exactly what was required during those moments,
to light our way and make explicit our terror to those
who happened to be within sight
of heaven’s raging crescendos.
© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
All images signed “LMH”
are copyrighted 2019-2020 by Lauren M. Hancock
and all rights reserved.
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