Lighthouse keeper by the shore, watching life pass he did the most
Eyeing ships, so bright and lively, that would sail near his post
'Til one fateful night one ship seemed to be set ablaze
Gravitating toward the sight that was a rarity in all his days
One door he swung open, leaving his beacon, bolting downstairs
Of peril and risk, he cared not; to him they seemed like minor fares
Fiery reflections undulated from afar as the keeper dashed to shore
Yanking his rowboat into the water, he paddled toward the source
Opening his eyes truly, he awoke to hands without a single oar
Under a guise he would man his post distractedly in the night
Realizing that the ship was a dream, he turned around to a fright
Precariously placed lanterns had fallen, shattering as he slept
And flames began to claim his home and post, as if collecting a debt
Sleep walking had moved him to the shore, by grace he was alive
The lighthouse keeper would rebuild, but this time he would thrive
7-11-17 (Oh look, a palindrome date! I should book it to 7-11 for a Slurpee when I leave campus...)
It's an acrostic poem, so I hope you get the message.
The theme of this poem, the abandoned lighthouse, has been on my mind for at least three months, but I had not put pen to paper until 7-10-17. While initially thinking of the idea, I had planned to have the lighthouse burn with no conclusion of rebuilding, but in recent weeks I realized that had come from my past state of depression. I'm now starting a renewed life through God's grace and I knew I had to fix that today when I finally wrote and typed the poem out, although it did take four drafts to make something so simple.
