The current must have taken us both,
But maybe not to drown us,
But rather to reunite us away from a judging shore,
To spare us the poor understanding of the common folk,
To take us to our own island of love.

Because maybe love was not possible on that shore,
A shore of constraint and doubt,
A shore of disapproving, short-sighted glances.

Yet the fateful seastorm knew the potential that lay silently within us.
It decided of its own accord
To take us far away
To get us lost before we could find each other.
It made the current trick us,
Pull us away from all we knew was good and stable.

Accept having lost control of the reins
And think the waves are set to drown you
And fear that dark abyss beneath
Until you see you keep afloat
Mysteriously, amid the dark waves of the seastorm.
Then you start to wonder
If the seastorm is your friend
A necessary evil,
You understand that, maybe,
This is not the end
And things will soon and gently settle.

In the distance, there is a lighthouse.