Alone on the cliff where the sea meets the sky,
A tower of stone with its lantern held high.
The storms rage around, the waves crash below,
Yet steady the keeper, with a fire’s warm glow.
Ships in their sorrow, battered and torn,
Come seeking his beacon through darkness and storm.
He mends them with light, with patience and care,
And sends them back sailing to futures elsewhere.
But who fuels the keeper? Who tends to his pain?
Who gathers his pieces when storms leave a stain?
He gives all his fire, yet receives just enough,
To keep the flame burning when the nights are too rough.
He is the safe harbor, the shelter, the guide,
The witness of secrets the sea tries to hide.
And though he stands lonely, forgotten by most,
His heart is still waiting — not empty, but close.
For one day a vessel may anchor and stay,
Not merely to heal, then be carried away.
But to walk up the tower, take his hand in her own,
And tend to the flame, so he’s never alone.