The Love of the Rock for the Lighthouse
by dr_mandrill
Posted: 01 February 2004 Word Count: 184 |
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All night,
Every night,
She casts away her light
As if it is worth
Nothing.
Her golden brilliant best
Is lost
To the waves
And the hard rocks
And the ungrateful dark.
And every night I try.
I gather what I can of her.
I fling back what she gives me
In hope
That she’ll see in me
Something of herself.
But no,
She never sees.
Perhaps I send back her light tainted
Perhaps my jagged edges,
My hard and dangerous edges,
Refract her gift into ugliness.
Does she see in me herself,
Tainted by me?
I could die.
Or maybe
Eyes like hers cannot see.
Is it her fate to be blinded by the glare?
It may be that a light stronger than her own could reach her.
But I have no light of my own.
Either way, her rays do not linger.
She passes over and on,
The sea, the rocks, the black-and-indigo horizon-
None of us catch her bright eyes.
My love secures me no special favours.
And I am left to cry myself an ocean,
A rising tide at dawn.
Every night,
She casts away her light
As if it is worth
Nothing.
Her golden brilliant best
Is lost
To the waves
And the hard rocks
And the ungrateful dark.
And every night I try.
I gather what I can of her.
I fling back what she gives me
In hope
That she’ll see in me
Something of herself.
But no,
She never sees.
Perhaps I send back her light tainted
Perhaps my jagged edges,
My hard and dangerous edges,
Refract her gift into ugliness.
Does she see in me herself,
Tainted by me?
I could die.
Or maybe
Eyes like hers cannot see.
Is it her fate to be blinded by the glare?
It may be that a light stronger than her own could reach her.
But I have no light of my own.
Either way, her rays do not linger.
She passes over and on,
The sea, the rocks, the black-and-indigo horizon-
None of us catch her bright eyes.
My love secures me no special favours.
And I am left to cry myself an ocean,
A rising tide at dawn.
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