The storm came quick, the first sign of it
being no more than an hour before it made landfall,
the three lighthouse keepers scrambled
to reach the west landing to secure everything down,
but as Thomas and James headed out,
leaving Donald inside the lighthouse to check for passing ships,
the wind picked up, a tempest of biblical scale,
and the two were soon forced back inside.
The storm made landfall, whipping up the sea,
huge waves as tall as the tallest buildings ever built
hurtled towards the island and battered the cliffs,
washed away the sand and shingle from the beaches,
and quickly the seawater rose, hunting down the lighthouse.
Inside, the three men stood by the light,
keeping their eyes on any distant ships,
but all they could see was seaspray and darkness.
A wave rushed into a geo and at reaching the end,
shot up like a geyser into the cold, dark sky.
Fear and panic found themselves a home in these three hearts,
and death was waiting nearby, suspending in the clouds
as the howling wind continued unabated
to pound and destroy this otherwise uninhabited island.
They told stories of the mainland to pass the time,
talk about loved ones back home, like soldiers do.
Sharing photographs with each other, love letters,
the names of their children they feared they’d never see grow up.
James was the first to spot them, as he checked on the light.
It had gone out whilst they were chatting in the communal room.
James called on the others, and as they came up the steps,
he looked outside and saw the unmistakeable shimmering
of the distant lights of a ship through the spray and the gloom.
Those were not the only lights James spotted, though.
Another light, green and filmy, shone on the path
that wound its way down to the rising waters
crashing against the west landing as if it had to be destroyed.
James ran down the steps as the other two quickly followed,
calling out his name but James was transfixed on the light.
How it shimmered, how it danced, no reaction to the storm.
A will o’ the wisp he was sure of it, and follow it he must,
no man could ever resist the call of her beautiful light.
He made it out the door just beyond the grasp of Donald,
the storm, a hurricane for sure, nearly ripping the door from its hinges.
Donald and Thomas threw themselves outside
and nearly straight into the back of James, standing stationary,
leaning into the wind, as the wind slammed the door shut behind them.
There it floated, the light of lights, beautiful emerald, viscous,
the wind flowing straight through its etheric body.
Three pairs of eyes, transfixed, mesmerised, at this floating orb,
and it slowly started backing its way down the path
and the three men followed, their minds dreaming of nothing
but what beautiful sights the light had waiting for them.
Down the path they stumbled, oblivious to the wind now,
the storm something that happened in a former life.
A wave, the biggest so far to hit the island,
came down upon the three men and dashed their bodies on the ground,
and as the wave receded, it took their bodies too,
to a place no one since can summon up the courage to imagine.