Lighthouse

They used to call it

salvation.

They used to stand

on the deck.

“Captain! God be praised!

A light! Off the port bow!”

All eyes turned toward

the cry.

Out there,

through the darkness,

through the night,

through the fog,

through the mist,

through the uncertainty

and certainty of

certain death,

the light of hope,

the flash of promise.

A light!

A path!

A piercing ray!

I saw you,

heard your voice,

thought of you

and there!

A path to the horizon.

A glimmer to my very soul.

They used to call it

salvation.

I call it love now.